BURNING EMBERS
by Crown Bound By Blood
Summary: WARNING: Humans. Leafpool and Crowfeather have uncertain, entwined feelings that tangle in the affairs of the Empire, but when rebellions and the prospect of war lurks forward, aristocrats are being targeted. The two knows that love never lasts long without a knife slicing it open. And when a wound is left raw, it festers into something worse. An infection that ravages the body.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter ONE:**

It is the reign of Larkwing the First, Rushtail the Second, and Willowpelt the Third*. Larkwing, the international leader, had begun his term two years ago and would continue it until the age of sixty-five, when he would be relieved of his duties. Rushtail, the domestic leader, was well into his twentieth year and was reaching the ripe age of forty-seven. He, like Larkwing, would continue his term until retirement. Willowpelt, the Gaian leader, was in his fifties, and was surprisingly youthful despite the strenuous duty of connecting with the earth and holding the forces together. His position was held till death.

There were twelve heritage families currently present—the house of Shadowrim, Riverside, Gustil, Herobexy, Yestermorn, Necrasung, Ebenwing, Zecrorise, Larixmin, Wilstera, Terrum, and Zephyra. The houses of Shadowrim, Herobexy, Necrasung, and Zecrorise have been heritage families since the beginnings of time. The houses of Larixmin, Wilstera, Terrum, and Gustil had been founded several generations after the first three kings. The houses of Yestermorn, Ebenwing, and Riverside were formed three generations from the current date, 3245 A.R. Twenty years ago, the Zephyra house rose from the ranks of peasantry as its current head, Firestar, was recognized for the heritage blood within his veins. He succeeded the falling house of Ripplen and forged a new house in his own name.

The houses of Herobexy, Ebenwing, and Larixmin reached out to Firestar when he began to build his estate and settle into his new position. Bluestar, Whitestorm, and Tallstar were sent to the new head of Zephyra in order to assist in his settlement process. The house of Zecrorise presented a young aristocrat, Spottedleaf, as a prospective bride for the new aristocrat. Firestar was immediately bewitched by the beauty and gentleness of this woman and fell hopelessly in love with her. They courted for a few months before he decided to propose. Several days before the actual engagement, Spottedleaf was killed when her carriage teetered too close to the side of a cliff and all those accompanying the young mistress were killed.

Firestar mourned her death for five years. Under the gentle encouragement of his closest friend, the flame-haired male opened his heart to another woman; a headstrong and moral-driven aristocrat by the name of Sandstorm. The two married after a year of courtship and gave birth to a pair of fraternal twins the year after.

This is where our story begins. Leafpool, daughter of Firestar and twin sister of the brash and strong-willed Squirrelflight, develops into a beautiful woman under the love and support of her parents. Before we learn about her future and the days to come, we must first be introduced to the owner of this story.

Third Person – Leafpool

Leafpool watched the world around her as the leaves spiraled from the branches of the trees and danced their way to rest on the pillowed softness of the grass below. Squirrelflight shuffled overhead, steadily propelling herself upwards as she carefully made her way to the top of a magnificent oak tree. Behind Leafpool, Sandstorm and Firestar were curled up together contentedly, finished with the weeks' worth of complaints from the nearby peasants and answering letters from the capital. Leafpool turned her wide amber eyes to her parents, watching as her father pressed a gentle kiss to his wife's cheek while keeping an eye out for Squirrelflight.

Sandstorm blinked affectionately at Leafpool and opened her arms out to her. Quietly, the eight-year-old climbed into her mother's arms and rested her cheek against Sandstorm's chest. The woman with auburn-colored hair pressed a loving kiss against her daughter's temple and stroked her light brown hair. Leafpool watched as her father gazed at the two of them tenderly before quickly scrambling onto his feet and taking off with a startled yell.

"Squirrelflight!"

Leafpool and Sandstorm ignored the shout and basked in the warmth of the sun. They had gotten so used to Squirrelflight's antics that her knack for getting into trouble was almost routine. Since Firestar was often stuck in his office or away on duty, he was unable to witness the countless times that his daughter took a step out of the safety zone, and thus frequently fell victim to his parental instincts.

A flash of red cut through the sky as Firestar leapt into the air, delicately plucking his rambunctious daughter from the tree and landing carefully onto the grass. "I told you not to climb too high," he chastised her as he carried her back to where the others were waiting. In his arms, Squirrelflight pouted, narrowing her green eyes and puffing out her cheeks.

A small smile touched Leafpool's face as she gazed at her sister. Under the shadow of her smile, however, Leafpool subconsciously noted the startling number of differences between her and her twin. As much as she despised being compared to Squirrelflight, she couldn't ignore the thoughts that filled her mind. Squirrelflight was lively, charismatic, and lovable. Although she was talented in ruining all of her clothes on her constant "adventures", skipped the lessons that tutors painstakingly altered for her, acted loud and was often outspoken, she was loved by almost everyone who knew her. Leafpool, on the other hand, was deemed as the "good girl" and was so obedient that often times, she merely faded out of people's interests. She pursued intellect and knowledge with a ravenous hunger that startled all of her tutors and pleased both her parents. She was talented at the arts and worked exceptionally with her hands. However, being the less charismatic of the two, she was often forgotten in the shadow of her sister.

It wasn't just their personalities that clashed horribly. Their appearances were drastically different too. Leafpool had slightly wavy hair that looked like it was mixed between the colors of blond and brown. She considered herself to be mildly pretty with her large amber eyes and her long, curled eyelashes, but her features were exactly what made her feel as if she was the odd one out. All three members of her family had red hair. Her father had flaming red hair with emerald green eyes while her mother had a much more reserved auburn hair color and pale green eyes. Her sister had dark red curls and green eyes that seemed to be a shade between their parents. Squirrelflight looked like Firestar and Sandstorm's daughter. Leafpool didn't.

As any mother would, Sandstorm had tried to convince Leafpool early on that her brown hair came from her ancestors and frequently referenced living relatives that once had brown hair. Leafpool accepted that excuse begrudgingly, but when her mother failed to come up with a good explanation for her eye color after noting that all her relatives had green eyes, Leafpool decided to drop the matter after realizing it would only make her much more frustrated.

Although her father seemed to be just a little more taken up with Squirrelflight, Leafpool was thankful that her mother kept a very watchful and loving eye on her. So loving, it seemed, that even oblivious Squirrelflight would notice the extra care that their mother bestowed onto Leafpool and would complain about not getting her fair share of attention.

Leafpool snapped out of her reverie as her sister tugged insistently on her arm. "Come on, Leafa," Squirrelflight urged. "Let's explore! You're going to get fat and lazy if all you do is sit around."

"Squirrelflight!" Sandstorm scolded. Firestar deflated slightly as his wife took to scolding the children. With the small amount of time he was actually able to spend with his family, he wasn't given much leeway over family matters. "Don't talk to your sister that way. Remember what I've told you before. Think before you speak."

"Yes mother," Squirrelflight replied monotonously as she continued to tug on Leafpool's arm. Giving in, the brunette allowed her red-headed sister to pull her to her feet and drag her off.

"Don't go too far!" Firestar called.

"Yes, father," Leafpool said just as Squirrelflight shouted, "yes, papa!" When their parents were safely out of earshot, Squirrelflight leaned in.

"Sorry I said that, Leafa. I really didn't mean it."

"It's alright," Leafpool reassured her. "I know you didn't." From birth, Squirrelflight had a difficult time keeping her thoughts to herself and encouraging other people to follow her without being too bossy. Leafpool knew that her sister didn't mean her any harm and would be the first to defend her in any situation. Although there were many things that she envied of her sister, Leafpool was thankful for having Squirrelflight as her closest friend. "So where are we going to do this time?"

"Well, mama said that we're going to have some friends over for a week, so we won't be too bored with all our tutors and lessons and whatnot." Squirrelflight wrinkled her nose distastefully. The corner of Leafpool's lips twitched upward when she saw Squirrelflight run a hand through her hair. _She's going to go off on a tangent again_ , the brunette thought affectionately. "I don't understand why papa even sends them over for me. I think I'm made to fight in the military." As if to prove her point, the redhead brought both hands together and pretended to fire a gun.

"I think it's too early to say," Leafpool said uneasily. It broke her heart whenever her sister mentioned going away and joining the military. According to the books that she studied, wars were far from peaceful and many families paid a heavy cost for their involvement. If anything, she couldn't imagine a life without her sister.

"Well, of course." Squirrelflight rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly at Leafpool. "I need to train a lot more before I can join!" Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "I managed to convince Gray stripe and papa to take me hunting with them later on," she boasted, puffing out her chest proudly. "Papa said that if I behave properly, I'll get to try hunting too!" At the uncomfortable look on her sister's face, Squirrelflight sighed and gave her a small smile. "Leafa, both of us know that you're the smart one. I like to think that I can be your shield—you know? The knight guarding the king..." Her green eyes sparkled. "Wouldn't that be amazing? We can be outstanding in the different things!"

"Of course," Leafpool agreed softly. _But it would make me feel better if you weren't running off getting in trouble all the time_ , she sighed inwardly. "Do you know who's coming over tonight?" She asked, quickly changing the topic.

A quizzical expression covered her sister's face and she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I don't know how many people are coming," she admitted. "But I know that Graystripe, Stormfur, and Feathertail will be coming. With luck, we'll see Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw, and Crowfeather too!" Leafpool stiffened slightly at the last name her sister mentioned and Squirrelflight frowned. "What's wrong? Did Crowfeather do something to you?" When Leafpool failed to respond, Squirrelflight's eyes narrowed. "Why, I oughta…" She grumbled under her breath.

"No, it's not that," Leafpool reassured her. "How do I say this…we're on the on the best terms." Quickly noticing the unconvinced expression on her sister's face, she quickly added, "I guess I'm a bit too shy and quiet for his liking."

"A bit too shy and quiet?" Squirrelflight repeated scathingly. "I'll show him shy and quiet!" She turned on her heel and took a step in the direction of their parents before Leafpool grabbed her arm and dragged her back.

"No, you'll show him headstrong and explosive," she corrected her sister. "It's alright, Squirrelflight. Besides, it's not really a big deal." There were multiple reasons why Leafpool was reluctant to let her sister pick a fight with Crowfeather. First, Leafpool knew she had to learn how to fight her own battles. Second, as much as she felt unappreciated by him, she wanted to make sure that they could at least get along to a minimum. Third, the look on Squirrelflight's face would give everything away, raise their parents' suspicions, and then Firestar would get overprotective and send all her friends away. Fourth…as much as Leafpool hated keeping secrets from her sister, she couldn't help but keep one hidden away. She always felt uncomfortable around him; when he was too close to her, she'd feel her heart start to accelerate or when their hands brushed, jolts of electricity prickled her skin. It was a difficult feeling to understand as an eight-year-old, and Leafpool was convinced that it would die away soon enough. Well, if it didn't, at least she'd be old enough to finally understand what it was until then.

"If you say so…" As expected, Squirrelflight looked unconvinced. However, the begrudging look on her sister's face reassured Leafpool that she wouldn't press the matter.

"So what game are we going to play right now?" Leafpool asked, changing the topic once again.

"Well, why don't we play the knight game again? I could be a knight and you can be my queen and we can go out and defeat monsters!" When Leafpool nodded her consent, the two of them quickly slipped into their roles and began weaving an intricate plotline filled with daring adventures, dire circumstances, and of course, dragons.

"Graystripe!" Squirrelflight squealed, launching herself into the gray-haired man's arms. His amber eyes glowed with laughter and amusement as he squeezed her once and held his arms open to Leafpool. Shyly, the brunette slipped into his arms and relished the warmth of his embrace. Graystripe was so close to their family that he was almost considered part of it. He wasn't an owner of heritage blood, but he was born in the house of Herobexy and therefore was considered an "inherited" aristocrat. He didn't qualify for kingdom, but he was still elevated by his wealth.

Pulling away from Graystripe, Leafpool allowed him to ruffle her hair affectionately before she turned around to watch her sister greet Graystripe's children. Stormfur watched calmly as his sister and Squirrelflight embraced one another and nodded to Leafpool in greeting. Like his father, the gray-haired boy was an "inherited" aristocrat.

Feathertail and Squirrelflight pulled away from one another and the silver-haired girl blinked kindly at Leafpool. According to Graystripe, she looked exactly like her late mother Silverstream, but it seemed that the thickness of her hair was passed onto her by her father. Both of them, much to Herobexy's shock, chose to join their late mother's house, the house of Riverside, in place of following their father. The two of them were at least three years older than Leafpool and her sister. Leafpool smiled shyly at the blue-eyed girl and kept her distance as more people entered the estate. Immediately, Squirrelflight was surrounded by friends and Leafpool was greeted briefly before being left in the shade of the nearby rowan tree.

"Leafpool." The brunette jumped at the gentle touch on her shoulder and whirled around to see her favorite tutor standing close behind her with an amused twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Cinderpelt! Are you staying over too?" When the gray-haired woman shook her head no, Leafpool deflated slightly.

"But I will drop by from time to time," Cinderpelt told her quickly. "Your father took the liberty of giving all of the tutors a week off when he decided that you and your sister would have the entire week to relax with friends! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Yes," Leafpool agreed, trying to keep her voice cheery. "It definitely will be." She felt a pang at the carelessness of her mentor's words. Squirrelflight often rejoiced in these rare occasions where their father would allow them to rest from their studies, but Leafpool felt completely alone in those moments. Her mother would be busy being a good host and her father's attention would be nearly impossible to catch. The tutors, who were usually the only ones who paid close attention to Leafpool, would be absent, leaving her without a friendly face to talk to. _I'll make up something about how I'm not feeling well_ , Leafpool thought to herself as Cinderpelt patted her one last time on the shoulders and left on a carriage. _Otherwise Squirrelpelt'll try to get me to play with her friends._

Slipping away from the crowd, Leafpool disappeared through the front door and into the manor house, unaware of a pair of icy blue eyes that were burning a hole into the back of her head.

As expected, the next few days were uneventful and awkward on Leafpool's half. She dined twice a day with everyone at breakfast and at dinner. During lunch, her mother would go and chat with the other mothers while the men went out to hunt or reminisce about the old days. Squirrelflight and her friends played in the river that crossed the estate or rode horses through the forested acres around the manor house. Meanwhile, Leafpool secluded herself in the enormous manor library and reading underneath the shade of her favorite redwood. Occasionally, Brambleclaw or his sister Tawnypelt would seek her out and ask her to join them, but she continued to decline their requests.

As usual, the two dark-haired siblings were being courteous and kind. Every time they came over, they would ask her to join them despite her protests. From time to time, they would persuade her to at least be present during their activities and in those times, Leafpool abandoned her books and brought out her sketchbook. There, she would draw pictures of her sister and her sister's friends as they played together.

She marked the names of every person under their picture. If anything, she had memorized their appearances after sketching them for so long. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt were alike in physical stature but their personalities were very different. Brambleclaw was stoic and made his choices based on ethical reasoning. Tawnypelt was more of a "people's person" and made decisions based on her morals and her beliefs. Both of them had dark hair although Tawnypelt had golden highlights to hers. They shared the same shade of amber eyes and a broad-shouldered, well-muscled form.

Feathertail had a delicate frame with long, flowing hair. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and her gentle smile seemed to mirror the warmth of the hearth. Stormfur had a handsome, square jaw and cool blue eyes. His dark gray hair reminded Leafpool of Graystripe and she frequently wondered if the boy's hair was just as soft as his father's. When she was younger, Graystripe often put her on his shoulders and she would weave her fingers with his hair in order to stay upright. Leafpool smiled faintly at the memory of his feather-soft hair caressing her fingertips.

If there was any person who puzzled her the most out of all of Squirrelflight's friends, it was definitely Crowfeather. He was at least a couple of months older than Leafpool, but he treated her as if she were years younger. He was rude, proud, and cold, but showed a much softer side to the Squirrelflight and his friends. Not to mention that, but the look in his eyes when he gazed at Feathertail bothered Leafpool. It was an unrecognizable emotion that Leafpool was convinced would reduce her to a trembling mess if it were to turn on her. The intensity of his gaze often unnerved her and she would feel frustration gnawing at her mind whenever she was unable to understand him.

Out of all the sketches in her sketchbook, the number of drawings she had of Crowfeather almost rivaled those of Squirrelflight's. Almost every expression she saw of his was recorded and documented in her book. It was embarrassing how many times his face would appear whenever she flipped through her sketches and she often shied away from showing her sister. After counting the number of sketches she had of him, she decided to avoid Squirrelflight and her friends as best as possible in order to resist the temptation of drawing him again.

Today, however, was not one of Leafpool's lucky days. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt convinced her to join them by the river and Leafpool had only relented out of the amount of respect she held for them. It was a hot summer day and Leafpool sweated uncomfortably under the shade. She shifted the sketchbook in her hands, almost guiltily stroking the last few blank pages. She would definitely have to ask her father for another book—her third book of the month.

A shout caught her attention and she lifted her head, flinching when sparkling droplets of water splashed onto the grass a few feet in front of her. She wrapped her arms protectively around her sketchbook as a drenched figure stumbled toward her. It was Tawnypelt, dressed in swimwear**. "Why don't you join us?" The dark haired girl suggested, eyeing the glass of lemonade that Leafpool had brought with her. The ice had melted away at least half an hour ago. "It's really hot right now."

Leafpool glanced uncomfortably toward the river where the others were playing and down at her white dress. "I don't have swimwear on," she whispered quietly.

"Then why don't we go back to the manor and get you dressed then?" Tawnypelt's amber eyes glowed encouragingly at her. Leafpool felt the skin on her arms prickle uneasily at the dark haired girl's suggestion. It was almost as if she was determined to get Leafpool into the water with the others. "Come on." Leafpool looked hesitantly at Tawnypelt's offered hand and chewed on her lip nervously. It wasn't that she couldn't stand Squirrelflight's friends-it was just that she didn't feel like she fit in. Not only that, but she didn't want to feel as if she was taking her sister's friends away.

Leafpool glanced up at Tawnypelt's eyes one last time, as if giving her one last chance to change her mind, before gathering up her things and taking the offered hand. "Hey, I'm going to head off to the manor with Leafpool for a second," Tawnypelt called to her friends. When Leafpool felt their eyes turn onto her, she flushed immediately, feeling uncomfortable under their gazes. The dark-haired girl immediately shifted, partially blocking the timid artist from curious eyes. A wave of shock and gratitude washed over Leafpool and she felt a smile touch her lips as she stared at the broad back before her.

"Got it!" Squirrelflight called back, waving excitedly. Leafpool glanced uneasily at her sister and felt a stab of guilt at the delight in Squirrelflight's green eyes. It was obvious that the redhead wanted her sister to join her in the water, but she probably respected Leafpool enough to leave her alone. "We'll expect you guys to be back soon!" Tawnypelt squeezed Leafpool's hand to get her attention and smiled reassuringly when Leafpool turned her started eyes to the dark-haired girl.

"Come on," she said, tugging gently. "We don't bite." Letting out an awkward laugh, Leafpool nodded reluctantly and pressed herself into Tawnypelt's damp side. The broad-shouldered girl's eyes widened slightly, but her grin grew at the shy smile on the brunette's face.

"I-if you say so."

Leafpool shifted from side to side, relishing the coolness of the water as it swirled around her shorts and soaked the cotton fabric. Just a few feet away, Squirrelflight was engaged in a splash fight with Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, who both looked more than determined to drench the redhead. Stormfur watched lazily from the riverbank and Feathertail carefully soaked herself in the cold river water. A splash caught Leafpool's attention and she saw Crowfeather's dark head surface before he disappeared under the water again. She watched him uneasily—she knew of the Ebenwing's reluctance to swim and it was obvious that he was forcing himself to swim.

Five minutes later, Crowfeather was kicking away from the center of the riverbed. Leafpool watched him, expecting him to reach for a towel and dry himself off in the shade. However, he waded through the shallows until he was standing by Feathertail. She watched as the dark-haired boy lifted his head to talk to the silver-haired female and how his cheeks seemed to redden as she praised him.

Leafpool's heart clenched for a second and before she could recognize what had just happened, a cold splash of water drew a startled squawk from her throat. She whirled around, blinking wildly as her drenched hair whipped around and rested uncomfortably on her shoulders. "Look out!" She heard Tawnypelt yell just in time for her to squeeze her eyes closed at another well-aimed splash.

"Squirrelflight! The first one was on accident," Brambleclaw told Leafpool apologetically when she brushed the water away from her eyes. He turned and gave a particularly stern look to the mischievous redhead beside him. "Squirrelflight, however, thought it would be hilarious to splash you… _again_." Leafpool spluttered at her sister and let out a fond huff. Shaking her head slightly, she turned away as if to climb out before quickly whipping around and splashing Squirrelflight hard.

"Hey!" She couldn't help but giggle when she heard her sister sputter indignantly. "Leafa!" She aimed another splash at Squirrelflight and squealed when her sister splashed her back indignantly.

"Be careful!" Brambleclaw scolded as he slapped his hand against the surface of the water, unintentionally splattering himself and Squirrelflight in water.

"I could say the same to you!" She shouted, shifting her attention from Leafpool to Brambleclaw. Tawnypelt rolled her eyes at them and motioned nodded toward them. Leafpool nodded, understanding the underlying message immediately. She trembled with excitement as the two of them crept toward their unsuspecting siblings and began to flail wildly, drenching Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight under waves of river water.

"Mercy!" Leafpool heard Squirrelflight wail after a couple seconds. She stopped immediately, and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when Tawnypelt's amber eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and fear.

"Look o—" Leafpool didn't hear the end of the dark haired girl's warning before she was dunked roughly underwater. Startled, she spluttered, unconsciously letting go of her breath and losing her air. She struggled at first and her blood grew cold when the hands pushing her head down didn't let go. _Squirrelflight?_ She thought desperately, trying to push away. Her eyes stung wildly as she accidentally opened them underwater and she gasped at the pain, unintentionally inhaling a lungful of river water.

Third Person – Crowfeather

He watched Leafpool linger by the bank as her sister splashed the Herobexy siblings under the water droplets that hung to the ends of his long eyelashes. The brunette seemed lost as she twisted from side to side nervously, wringing her hands as she glanced back and forth from the water to the others in the river. He snorted and turned his head back toward Feathertail, deciding that her attention would be much more preferable to watching people splash one another.

She gave him a tender smile before turning her attention to where the others were. A few feet away, Stormfur dozed, cracking open a lazy eye to gaze out at the loud, squealing group in the river. Crowfeather watched the silver-haired girl, staring hard at her before following her amused blue gaze back to the four who were splashing in the river.

Crowfeather watched as Squirrelflight turned on Brambleclaw and began to slap water in his direction. His eye twitched slightly as the two of them began to engage in a rather intense water-fight. The two of them were famous for their spats and their fights. Often times, the reason was so trivial that Crowfeather was almost convinced that the two of them fought merely to amuse themselves. The dark-haired male blinked in surprise when Leafpool and Tawnypelt ambushed their siblings and initiated a splash-war.

Although he had suspected that the brunette twin had a wild side to herself, he had never expected for her to be so energetic and carefree. Her drenched hair spun around her as she laughed, squeezing her eyes shut as she raised her hands to block a splash. She always looked like she had a problem to solve or a book to read. Here, she seemed as carefree as her sister, giggling and splashing water like a madman. Crowfeather pursed his lips as he continued to watch her. She was the only one out of all of Squirrelflight's friends that he found difficult to understand.

He snapped out of his reverie just in time to see Squirrelflight leap at her sister and push her underwater. Shaking his head in exasperation, he crossed his arms and glanced Feathertail. The amusement in her eyes died out after a few seconds and she let out a warning cry, cutting through the water like a knife as she dove back into the river. Squirrelflight, who was crowing her victory, had flinched at the silver girl's shout and pulled away from her sister, whose head was still submerged. Crowfeather felt something brush up against him and he looked up just in time to see Stormfur race forward, his eyes hard as he skidded to a stop by the bank.

Feathertail hefted Leafpool out of the water; the brunette spluttered and coughed upon impact with the riverbank. She rolled onto her elbows, shaking as she emptied the water from her stomach and lungs. Crowfeather pulled himself from the river and picked his way over to where Feathertail and Stormfur were trying to sooth Leafpool. Stormfur rubbed Leafpool's back encouragingly as his sister cooed to the waterlogged brunette. Feeling a sudden stab of rage at the sight of the brunette twin heaving and crying, Crowfeather whirled around, ready to give Squirrelflight a piece of his mind. However, he froze in his tracks when she pushed past him and fell to her knees beside her sister.

"Oh Starreign, Leafpool! I didn't know—I didn't mean it—I—oh Starreign," she wailed. Brambleclaw was behind her in a second, pulling her away from Leafpool.

"She's going to be okay now," Crowfeather heard Brambleclaw tell her. "Feathertail and Stormfur have a lot of experience with swimming." _Meaning they probably know what to do with a half-drowned person_ , Crowfeather added, immediately understanding the implied message of the boy's words. The two of them were raised by the house of Riverside and were probably taught out to swim ever since they were toddlers. Undoubtedly, they would've experienced a few accidents here and there.

The dark-haired boy listened as Leafpool's painful heaving faded into quiet sobs. He watched as Feathertail brushed the hair away from the brunette's face and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Shh, it's okay," she cooed, smiling gently, "Stormfur and I are going to take you back to the manor, okay? We'll get you some tea with honey and some nice pillows." She glanced at her brother and he nodded before gathering up the shaking girl in his arms. "Gently, now," she whispered to him as he rose to his feet. Glancing back at the others, she smiled apologetically. "I'll send Stormfur back in a bit. I'll stay with Leafpool for the rest of the day."

"I should—" Squirrelflight started, but Feathertail cut her off with a stern look.

"No, you should let your sister rest and recover. You should also tell Firestar and Sandstorm what happened. It's the least you could do," Feathertail told her gently. "Come on, Stormfur." Crowfeather watched the silver-haired girl with a mixture of admiration and pride as she walked away. This was why he was so drawn to her. She was caring and had a way with people. She knew exactly what to say and how to say it.

He glanced back at Squirrelflight, who looked absolutely devastated as she stared after her sister. Brambleclaw was stroking her shoulder softly, but the glances he threw his sister revealed that he was unsure of what he should do.

"I'm heading back too," Crowfeather informed them suddenly. "I'll watch over Leafpool with Feathertail." Turning on his heel, he walked away before the three of them could respond.

Third Person – Leafpool

As expected, her parents had been outraged when they heard of what happened. Squirrelflight was summoned before dinner and didn't return to eat with everyone else. Ashfoot scolded Crowfeather and the others for not realizing it soon enough, but Graystripe quickly rose to defend them from her harsh words.

Leafpool picked at her food uncertainly before setting her utensils down and walking over to her father's chair. The red-haired male paused in mid-chew and raised an eyebrow at her. "Father, may I bring my food upstairs to eat with Squirrelflight?" Firestar blinked at his daughter before swallowing his mouthful and setting down his fork.

"You are aware that she's being punished right now." Leafpool's cheeks blazed as she felt everyone's eyes turn onto hers. Steeling herself, she focused on his face and stood a little straighter.

"I know," she replied stubbornly. "But I know she didn't mean to do it. May I please bring my food upstairs?" She repeated herself.

Firestar's eyes softened and he touched her arm reassuringly. Leafpool quickly relaxed under his gentle touch. "Go and fill your plate," he whispered. "Squirrelflight's isn't allowed to have food tonight, but she's lucky that she has a sister like you." He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a stern look before speaking up slightly. "Please remind her that this is the last time that I will let her off so lightly. I'll tell the chef to send up some dessert for the two of you later." Leafpool's eyes glowed and she wrapped her arms around her father's neck, overjoyed. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, a tender look in his eyes as she pulled away and tried not to run to her seat.

Leafpool could still feel the eyes of everyone at the table burning holes into her skin, but she did her best to pile her plate full of tasty tidbits and run off without spilling anything. She groped for the extra fork by her napkin and smiled gratefully at Tawnypelt when the dark haired girl placed the utensil onto the plate and tucked two napkins into her collar. Bowing to her father in gratitude, she headed upstairs with her platter of food and turned the corner.

Although the manor was large, Leafpool found it very difficult to get lost. It seemed as if every room was bustling with some activity or had some use to it. Leafpool and Squirrelflight's bedrooms were located on the second floor with the guest bedrooms and the library. Firestar and Sandstorm's master bedroom was located on the opposite end of the second floor, nicely distanced from the other rooms. The third floor contained storage areas and servants' quarters. The kitchen, the den, the dining room, the laundry room, and sitting area were located downstairs. There were gardens in both the front yard and the back—the flowers in the front were arranged in a semi-circle around a large and wonderfully crafted fountain. The backyard had a "labyrinth" of flowers, open space, patio deck, a river, and a forest of various densities all around.

Leafpool knocked gently on the door and smiled when Squirrelflight gave the okay. The redhead stared at her as she headed in with her plate of food and set it by the bed. "Leafpool? What are you doing up here?" Leafpool saw wariness and remorse shining in Squirrelflight's green eyes, but she said nothing as she situated herself on her sister's bed.

"I convince Father to let me come and bring you food," Leafpool replied, as Squirrelflight gently closed the door. "I thought you wanted to see me."

"If this is pity…" Squirrelflight tugged on the ends her hair with a frown. "I don't need it. I'm sorry, it sounds rude but…"

"It's not pity." Leafpool patted the seat beside her and lifted a forkful of food. "Mouth. Open. Now." Squirrelflight sat down beside Leafpool and opened her mouth in protest, but the brunette ignored her and began shoveling food into her sister's mouth. "If you think this is pity," she grumbled as she fed Squirrelflight another bite of meat, "then you aren't my sister." Satisfied that her sister's mouth was completely full, Leafpool dipped her head and took a bite of green beans.

"Ife buff—" Squirrelflight hurriedly swallowed her mouthful of food, "I mean, I just assumed…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…no, I didn't…"

"You didn't do it on purpose and even if you doubt yourself, I'll prove you wrong," Leafpool retorted, taking another bite of food. She gave her sister a scathing look when the redhead continued to stare. "Are you going to eat or not? Mind you, the food on this plate wasn't meant for only you." As if to prove a point, she stabbed a piece of meat and popped it in her mouth, chewing enthusiastically. "Persuading father takes a lot of energy, you know."

"Hey! Don't eat it all!" Squirrelflight sprung onto the food immediately, nearly snatching the plate away from Leafpool as she filled her mouth. The brunette laughed and speared a chunk of meat before relinquishing the plate to her sister.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter TWO:**

Third Person – Leafpool

A drop of sweat trickled down Leafpool's forehead and she shook her head irritably to get rid of it. Sensing that the droplet was still there, she let out a long sigh and mopped her brow with the already-damp rag beside her. Picking up her knife again, she pressed the point into the wood and began to carve the pattern of feathers onto her masterpiece.

After the near-drowning experience, Leafpool decided that she had to avoid Squirrelflight and her friends at all costs—despite how rude and devastating it would be on her sister's side. Although it broke her heart to see the deflated expression on the redhead's face, Leafpool convinced herself that she was doing what was best for everyone—even if it meant her bond with her sister would be weakened. Their father had made it very clear—that time was the last time that Squirrelflight would be punished lightly for her mistakes.

With a sudden opening in her schedule created by her avoidance strategy, Leafpool turned to her art as a way to escape boredom. A few days ago, she asked her father for a large, fourteen by twelve-inch chestnut board. In the summer heat, she set to carving the image of a crow and a cat sitting side by side.

She had spent at least twenty hours on this project so far, painstakingly making sure that each detail was precise and placed perfectly. She worked on it as soon as she woke up, after breakfast, before lunch, until dinner, and even after dessert. She would go to bed, however, when one of the maids knocked on her door to give her the five minute warning when either Firestar or Sandstorm made their nightly rounds.

The hours of work made her hands cramp uncomfortably and whatever ice she brought with her to ease the pain melted quickly in the summer heat. She had to wipe her hands every few minutes in order to make sure that the knife wouldn't slip out of her hand. The fruit of her labor made the grueling process seem insignificant. With a nearly finished crow and the outline of the other figures carved out, Leafpool knew it wouldn't be long before the piece would be finished.

Shifting slightly so that she could work on the space between cat and crow, she dug her carving knife into the firm surface. "What are you doing?" A voice asked suddenly. Startled, Leafpool's hand slipped and she let out a cry of anguish when her knife gouged a jagged line into her wood piece.

"Oh, no no no no no no…" She whimpered, smoothing her hands over the new cut in the wood. It was ruined—the cut was too deep to cover with other marks. The balance of the piece was upset. Staring at her half-finished masterpiece, Leafpool felt a wave of anger crash onto her. _So many hours_ , she thought bitterly as she traced her finger over the jagged line again. _So much hard work_. _Wasted._ Whoever caused this would most definitely be given a piece of mind.

"Why did you have to—" She broke off when she saw who was standing behind her. Immediately, the words died in her throat. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, feeling the blood rush to her face with embarrassment and fury. Instead, she ground her teeth down, catching the inside of her lip as she clamped her mouth shut. She always found it hard to talk around Crowfeather.

His icy eyes looked over her frustrated expression before traveling over to her piece. They widened slightly when he saw the mistake his words had caused. "I-I…" He started, a guilty expression crossing his face.

"I-i-it's nothing," Leafpool quickly stammered, lifting her hands and blocking Crowfeather's view of her carving. Inwardly, she cursed herself. Why did she always have to shy away from him? _Speak your mind!_ "A s-small mistake. I can fi-fix it easily…" She groaned inwardly at her words. _Well, so much for that._ Her timid nature never helped her with coming out with her true feelings. Her hand trembled violently and the knife slipped from her fingers. She yelped and quickly bent over to pick it up again, inwardly cursing herself for saying that she could fix it. Who was she kidding? The piece was ruined.

Just as she raised the knife to her piece again, a cool hand tugged the knife out of her hand while another gently nudged her to the side. She watched dazedly as Crowfeather knelt down beside her and dug the knifepoint into the hard surface. Immediately, it felt as if the air around her had been sucked out by some mysterious force. She was almost overwhelmed by the sudden closeness and the sudden lack of personal space. When she felt herself gravitating toward him, she pulled back with a blush. He seemed not to notice as he carved into the wood, his hand unsteady and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Alarms were going off at the back of Leafpool's head when she realized his carving hand was blocking whatever he was working on. A part of her wanted to rip the piece of out of his hands to keep the damages to a minimum, but the sincere diligence in his movements quickly reassured her fretful side. She felt herself relaxing as she submerged herself in the sounds of the forest and the rasp of metal against wood. Whatever Crowfeather made of her piece would be acceptable, she decided. _I can't deny anyone when they're that sincere_ , she thought with a sigh.

"I don't know if this makes it alright but…" Crowfeather leaned back and Leafpool snapped out of her thoughts to peer at her altered piece. In the place of the jagged line was a roughly carved leaf. As she studied the newest score into the wood, warmth spread through her body.

It was almost as if the black-haired boy had touched her heart with this carving. She stroked the surface of it gently, feeling the awkward catches in the blade. It was perfect. Although the carving screamed amateur, the leaf fit Crowfeather perfectly. This was the side that Squirrelflight frequently told her about—and for once—she was seeing it for herself. She turned and smiled at him. "Thank you," she whispered. "It's wonderful."

"It's not the best craftsmanship…" Crowfeather mumbled begrudgingly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I'll work on it." He paused and studied the wood again. "Why are you making this again?" At his words, Leafpool furrowed her eyebrows together. _Do I need to have a reason to make art?_ Once again, her thoughts didn't resonate in the answer she gave him.

"My bedroom is…simple," she said slowly, tracing over the leaf again. "Squirrelflight always complains about how boring it is and she told me that I should hang up my art." She chuckled softly, stroking the surface of her crow and marveling at the difference in texture between her carving and Crowfeather's. The levels of experience between the two of them were drastically different, but amazingly, they seemed to fit well together. She felt an unexpected wave of fondness and tenderness wash over her as the two of them stared at her wood carving. For some reason, at that moment, it felt as if she had known him for all of her life.

"A crow and a cat," he commented, breaking their few moments of silence. Inwardly, Leafpool mourned the loss of the connection she felt with him. "Where did you get that idea?"

"…It's from a dream that I keep having," she admitted. "But the leaf wasn't there before—at least I don't remember anything about a leaf." Leafpool nearly slapped herself for the awkward silence that followed. "Well then again, it's your leaf. I mean—uh…" She swallowed the lump in throat. "…Have you seen Squirrelflight?" She asked, quickly changing the topic.

"She's with the others by the river. Why?"

"I-I-I just wanted her to see it and tell me what she thinks. Umm, why did you come here?" Now that the moment was lost, Leafpool was quickly settling back into reality and she gazed uneasily at Crowfeather. Of all people, why had he been the one to seek her out?

"Is it against the rules to go into the forest if you're not Firestar's kid?" Crowfeather snipped irritably. All warmth inside of her dissipated; it suddenly felt as if she was being held at sword point. At the brunette's startled expression, Crowfeather shook his head and scowled at her. "Look, your sister asked me to come and look for you because she hadn't seen you all day yesterday or all morning today. I got stuck with the job because everyone else was 'busy' having a good time playing around in the water." At his words, Leafpool's heart hardened and she cursed herself for thinking that he had come out on his own accord. _Of course Squirrelflight told him to come and look for me_ , she thought. _She always gets uncomfortable if she doesn't see me often enough._

"Just tell her that I'm here by the border of the forest," Leafpool replied coolly, collecting her knife and her art piece. "And thank her for wanting to check up on me." When Crowfeather didn't move, she turned her back to him and added, "Thank you, too. Even if my sister told you to find me, I appreciate you actually coming." She began carving again, pausing only when she heard him step away. As his footsteps faded from the clearing, Leafpool reached forward and stroked the hastily carved leaf with her fingertips.

"Just who are you, Crowfeather?" She murmured softly, remembering the myriad of sentiments that had filled her in his presence. "And just what do you do to me?"

Third Person – Crowfeather

"How was Leafpool?" Squirrelflight called from the shade of a willow tree, wringing her hair out. Crowfeather blinked at her before giving his answer.

"She's fine. She's working on a wood carving of some sort. She says that she wants you to see it sooner or later," he reported blandly. When he spotted Feathertail and Stormfur relaxing in middle of the river, he settled down by the trunk of an oak tree. Although the water would be comforting on his burning skin, it would wash away Leafpool's lingering scent.

Crowfeather plucked a plump blade of grass from his surroundings and began to tear it into tiny pieces. What was he doing? Squirrelflight had originally planned to check up with her sister herself, but Crowfeather had volunteered in her stead, muttering something about how she had to be a good hostess for the rest of their friends. It was a stupid excuse, but it had convinced the redhead to stay behind with the others. Despite being part of the group, he often felt as if he was the odd one out. Stormfur and Feathertail had each other while Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt often stuck together. The two Herobexy aristocrats were also extremely close to Squirrelflight, who sort of acted as a connecting point in their group of friends.

He had volunteered out of selflessness and curiosity. Although he and Leafpool crossed paths often, they hardly spared a glance at one another. Being part of Squirrelflight's tightly-knit circle of friends, he felt somewhat obligated to befriend or at least familiarize the redhead's twin sister just a little bit. That was probably what drove him to offer his time to seek out the brunette. Deep inside of his mind, however, was a stubborn protest that there was something more than respect and obligation. There was something mysterious and weirdly attractive about Leafpool that drew in his interest like a fly to a Venus flytrap.

He shivered as he remembered her proximity as he carved his leaf into her piece. He could still smell the delicate vanilla-and-lavender scent that wrapped around her like a blanket. He could feel the warmth that radiated off of her body and forced its way into his, raising the hair on his arms and sending his sense into overdrive. Crowfeather didn't know what was happening to him—from a young age, he had always marveled and fawned over Feathertail. Feathertail was beautiful, graceful, and easy to be with. She always had kind words to say and a friendliness that drew people toward her like a magnet. She was—and still is—the center of his interests, but at the same time, he felt a pull from Leafpool that he couldn't deny.

Leafpool had a similar delicacy to Feathertail. However, where the silver-haired girl was bold and courageous, the brunette shied away and kept to herself. While Feathertail was open and kind, Leafpool was like an endless maze, full of secrets and whispered promises. He often had a hard time believing Squirrelflight's description of the brunette, but after his most recent encounter with her, he was quickly having second thoughts. Leafpool was someone more than a timid, reserved girl. She had a certain touch of pride to her—one that lit her eyes a fiery amber and made her raise her head high. While Feathertail was a sight for sore eyes, Leafpool had a certain beauty to her that only seemed to grow as more sides of her were revealed.

Crowfeather suddenly felt as if he was one of those hopeless characters in the frivolous romance novels that Feathertail and Tawnypelt seemed to love. While he longed for Feathertail's attention, he also felt himself yearn for Leafpool's acknowledgement. He felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He cared for _Feathertail,_ not Leafpool. He only noticed her out of obligation and respect. Yet at the back of his mind, a voice disagreed with him. _If you don't care for her, then why did you even try to fix the mistake she made?_ It asked, scowling at him.

He felt guilty for startling her, but was it his remorse what drove him to take up the knife and start carving? He was never good at the arts and often preferred athletics and logistics to art. The leaf that he had crudely carved into the wood screamed amateur, and beside Leafpool's extremely talented work, it stood out like a sore spot. He wondered if she had called it wonderful just to make him feel better. But was it possible to fake that amount of sincerity in her voice?

 _"…It's from a dream that I keep having."_ The cat and the crow were from one of her dreams? Strangely enough, the two creatures were present in his dreams whenever he stayed over at the Zephyra manor. The only difference between his interpretation and hers was that there was always a leaf and a feather sitting between the two animals.

 _"Just tell her that I'm here by the border of the forest."_ The cold, icy tone of Leafpool's voice had startled him when he informed her of Squirrelflight's concern. As usual, he had little control over his arrogant manner of speaking and had too much pride to apologize for the rudeness of his tone. However, Leafpool's reaction to his words had dumbfounded him. The confused and shy look in her eyes had quickly faded into a cool indifference as she gazed at him. She hadn't shied away like she usually would; she didn't duck her head and absorb whatever harsh words he had to say. Instead, the Leafpool that had poked her head out to smile at him had quickly withdrawn and locked the door to her heart. And hanging from her doorknob was a sign that had "KEEP OUT AND STAY OUT" written in bold.

Suddenly, it felt as if she had become an alien to him. He had always seen her as a shadow, fading away into the background when no one bothered to pay attention to her. She was obedient, quiet, and chose appeasement over confrontation. Now she was proud, shameless, and bold—standing with her chin high and her back straight. Her amber eyes burned a hole into his mind as she stared at him from his memories, daring him to tuck her away into a corner and forget her forever.

Crowfeather shook his head irritably and exited his reverie. He was overreacting to this new side of her. The two of them were most likely going to keep to themselves and avoid each other at all costs. Knowing Leafpool, she was most likely going to do whatever she could to keep their encounters to a minimum. With her extensive knowledge of the layout of the Zephyra manor, it wouldn't be difficult to see very little of her for the last few days of his stay. Either way, a small voice screamed out at him from the depths of his mind and challenged his indifference toward Leafpool.

"There's no reason for me to know her," he reminded himself quietly. But the feeling gnawing at his heart begged to differ. "But who are you…and what do you do to me?"

Third Person – Squirrelflight

If she were asked to make a list of things that she loved about her sister, Squirrelflight was sure that she would need yards and yards of paper to even get half of those things down. But toward the top of the list, close by her love for Leafpool's gentle smile and melodious laugh was her art. Without a doubt, the brunette was a stunning artist and Squirrelflight often found herself begging her sister to show her the sketches of the day.

Today's art project was no different from any others. She had been excited to hear that her sister was working on a new piece and had raced upstairs as soon as she was finished playing "hostess" to her group of friends. When Leafpool opened the door to her bedroom and dragged the redhead in, Squirrelflight's jaw suddenly decided that it would be a good time to dislocate itself and refuse to function properly. It currently hung, suspended by the skin and muscles of her face as she stared at the wood carving on her sister's bed. Leafpool, who was used to her antics, fidgeted excitedly beside her.

"It's not finished yet," she said bashfully when Squirrelflight finally gathered enough willpower to tear her gaze away from the piece. She gave Squirrelflight a shy, delighted smile when the redhead turned her awestruck gaze back to the carving.

"Eight years old and a prodigy of art," she murmured in wonder, a grin spreading across her face. "You _have_ to show mama and papa this." After receiving an approving nod from her sister, Squirrelflight ran her fingers over the grooves in the wood. Each cut was smooth and expertly executed, only adding to her delight as she explored the piece with her hands. Her fingers brushed over a roughly cut area and she frowned, pulling her and away and leaning forward to study the spot curiously. "What happened here?" She asked, nodding to the crudely carved leaf. "This isn't your carving style."

An embarrassed and wary look crossed Leafpool's face as she crossed her arms and stared at the leaf. "It's not," she agreed. "It's Crowfeather's."

"Crowfeather?" Squirrelflight repeated in disbelief. "Are you crazy? He can barely draw a tree—let alone carve a leaf!" She scowled at the ragged and crude carving, inwardly cursing her friend for ruining her sister's masterpiece. "He ruined it," she protested, wrapping her arms around herself in frustration.

"Well, it was ruined before that," Leafpool replied exasperatedly, shooting her sister a fond look. "He did a good job for someone so inexperienced. I like it," she said, shrugging at Squirrelflight gave her another taken-aback stare.

"'Ruined before that'? That implies that a mistake was made." A conflicted look crossed Leafpool's face and Squirrelflight frowned. "Leafa, are you hiding something from me?" The thoughtful expression on her sister's face passed quickly and she smiled stiffly, shaking her head slowly.

"It looks even I'm not perfect with my art," she replied, laughing softly. Squirrelflight hesitated at the slight edge in her sister's voice, but decided not to push it. She knew Leafpool hated being pressured, and even if it bothered her that her sister was keeping secrets from her, the redhead kept her mouth shut. _Everyone thinks that I'm oblivious and simple-minded_ , she thought irritably. _Yeah right._

"So Crowfeather looked a bit distracted when he came back to us. Anything happen between the two of you when he came to check up on you?" At her question, Leafpool stiffened slightly, and the redhead felt a stab of suspicion at the wary gleam in her sister's eyes.

"No, nothing of the sort." Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes as she watched the brunette. Leafpool was blatantly lying to her. For the first time, the redhead realized that she didn't know her sister as well as she initially thought. _There's a wall between us now, huh?_ She thought sadly, gazing at her sister forlornly. Leafpool tugged at the ends of her hair and Squirrelflight sighed inwardly, recognizing the action as a signal that the brunette was going to change the topic. "Anyway, thank you for sending him to check up on me."

"Sending him?" Squirrelflight repeated slowly. "Leafa, I planned on finding you myself! I was going to come find you but he told me that he'd go in my place. Mumbled some mumbo jumbo about how I had to play the role of a good hostess and whatnot." She shook her head in exasperation.

" _What?_ " Squirrelflight stiffened at the shrill tone of Leafpool's voice. It wasn't like her to suddenly raise her voice like that. In fact, it was rare that the brunette would ever raise her voice at all. "He told me that he was 'stuck with the job' of checking up on me! He said that everyone else was too busy 'playing around in the water'!"

"Playing around in the water?" The redhead spluttered. "I was going to check up on you myself! What the heck, Crowfeather!" _What in the world does he think he's doing?_ She was definitely going to give him a piece of her mind after all this. He practically told Leafpool that she was worthless and a waste of time! _Nobody just walks away after talking to my sister like that_ , she thought furiously, turning on her heel and stalking toward the door.

"Not so fast, Squirrelflight." The redhead felt herself being held back as her sister stepped forward, her face contorted in rage. Immediately, the green-eyed girl felt her anger extinguish at the look of fury on her sister's face. She had never seen Leafpool this angry before and she mentally decided that she would never want to cross paths with her sister ever again. She shrunk away slightly, fearfully taking in the stiffness of Leafpool's figure. "My fight, my responsibility. I'll deal with him."

"R-right now?" Squirrelflight choked out as her sister stalked out of the room.

"Yes!" Leafpool snapped.

Third Person – Crowfeather

"Check." Crowfeather stifled a yawn as he watched Feathertail corner Bramble claw's king for the fifth time. The two of them were engaged in a rather intense chess match—each person dancing around the other's army as they tried to beat the other. Although Feathertail was older than the dark-haired boy by three years, and therefore more experienced than him, Brambleclaw often found ways to put the Riverside aristocrat in a tight spot. In the past ten minutes, she had been put in a few compromising situations where it seemed that she would lose the battle, but she always managed to find a loophole in the younger aristocrat's strategy.

The remainders of Squirrelflight's friends were strewn around the den, each keeping to themselves. While Crowfeather watched Brambleclaw and Feathertail's chess match with feigned interest, Tawnypelt dozed by the fire and Stormfur thumbed his way through a thick, dusty book from the shelves lining the walls of the room. Neither of the two spared the other three a single glance as the chess match went on.

The hour between dinner and bedtime was often the least exciting portion of each day—everyone was drowsy and satisfied after dessert. In this time, Squirrelflight often chose to leave her friends in the den to seek out her sister and Crowfeather would have to find a way to amuse himself while the others did the same. Just further down the hallway, their parents were probably drinking wine and talking each other's ears off. They would probably be arguing over some sort of petty disagreement or chatting about their childhoods. It seemed that all adults were interested in talking about was the past; Crowfeather wondered distastefully if he would eventually grow up to do the same.

Crowfeather sighed and slumped against the sofa in boredom. Today seemed to be the most restless and boring day of all. Just as he was about to lose himself in his thoughts, a figure stopped before him and a menacing aura washed over him. Startled, the blue-eyed boy lifted his head to see Leafpool staring down at him with a murderous expression on her face. Taken aback, he recoiled slightly, all the more unnerved at the satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Can I help you?" he asked, carefully hiding his discomfort under a layer of indifference.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room became stifling. Crowfeather could almost imagine everyone abandoning whatever they were doing and turn their eyes on the brunette. For once, she didn't seem to flinch under the burning scrutiny of multiple eyes as she glared down at him. At his question, a sickly sweet smile crossed her face and she crossed her arms across her chest. "Yes, actually, there is something you can do." The icy tone of her voice made it feel as if the temperature of the room had just dropped ten degrees. "I'm afraid you owe my sister and me an apology."

"An apology?" Damn. There was his pride again. "For what?" The grin on Leafpool's face only grew wider and suddenly Crowfeather felt as if he had just tangoed with the devil.

"You are a cruel, cruel person," she murmured coldly. "You pretended that my sister was _inconsiderate_ enough to send someone to check up on me on the premise that she was too busy 'playing in the water'." The look in her eyes grew hard. "And I understand. You may think I'm overreacting about your choice of words, but I have something to say to you." A sadistic smile tugged at Leafpool's lips as she leaned forward slightly, nearly bringing herself down to eye-level with him. Crowfeather distractedly noticed the sound of quickly approaching footsteps as Leafpool's amber eyes narrowed at him. "Swallow your damn pride," she whispered.

"Leafpool!" Everyone's eyes turned to the den doorway, where a slightly flushed Firestar and Squirrelflight were staring at the brunette in horror. "Language!" Ignoring her father, the amber-eyed girl redirected her attention to Crowfeather.

"You're only going to hurt the people around you with the way you talk," she told him bitterly. "And you're going to suffer because of it. People will walk away from you if you can't learn to say something _nice_ for once. Say something _right_ for once. If you don't…" she cocked her head to the side slowly. "You're going to find yourself alone very, very quickly. And you're going to break because of that. You're going to break because you can't wrap your mind around the fact that your pride is what hurts the people around you!" Her voice rose angrily and her upper lip curled slightly in a snarl.

"I'm not your friend," she said suddenly, the fire in her eyes quickly being washed over with a frosty sheet of ice. "So I'm not scared of telling you this: put my sister down in _any way_ and I will hunt you down to the ends of Zendiria, You underestimate me, Crowfeather. I am _more_ than capable of breaking you, and _I'm not hesitant to do it._ " She stepped back, gave him one last glare and walked over to her father.

"Father," she greeted him curtly. "Do you wish to have a word with me?" Firestar and Squirrelflight, like many others in the room gaped at her as she raised her head to meet his eyes. Crowfeather, quickly overcoming his shock, noticed the fearful and wistful glance that Leafpool tossed at her sister. _What a girl_ , a small voice inside of him mused dazedly. _She doesn't regret a single thing that she said. She really loves her sister, doesn't she?_ Crowfeather begrudgingly agreed with the look that Brambleclaw, who was the second to recover from Leafpool's words, shot in his direction. _I had it coming_ , he thought dejectedly.

"I do." Sandstorm's face appeared in the midst of chaos as Firestar closed and opened his mouth multiple times in an attempt to find his voice. He cast a startled look over his shoulder at his wife as she beckoned to their daughter. "Upstairs. I'd like to have a word with you in your bedroom." Suddenly, it looked as if all the adrenaline that had powered Leafpool had disappeared from her bloodstream as her shoulders sagged and she stepped out of the room to follow her mother upstairs.

Crowfeather heard Sandstorm's voice cut through the silence as she addressed her husband and her daughter. "Firestar, Squirrelflight; remember to close your mouths before the flies crawl in." Both aristocrats snapped their jaws together like bear traps and stared dazedly over their shoulders after their retreating family members.

Squirrelflight, who somewhat recovered from her sister's outburst faster than her father, gave Crowfeather a bone-chilling glare. "You heard her, Crowfeather," she growled. "And the same goes for me. Put down my sister, and I'll give you a piece of my mind. I'll go easy on you since you're a friend, but…consider yourself warned."

Third Person – Leafpool

To her complete and utter surprise, she did not receive the scolding that her mother's words had implied. Instead, once the door to her bedroom had been shut, Sandstorm had wrapped her arms around her daughter and smiled proudly at her. "My little girl is finally standing up for herself," the auburn-haired woman cooed, absentmindedly stroking her daughter's hair. "I'm so proud of you."

"Mother?" Leafpool asked weakly.

"Ah—right." The serious look reappeared on her mother's face and the green-eyed woman regarded her daughter sternly. "You're eating alone for three weeks and you're not allowed to stay up late to work on your art." At Leafpool's startled expression, Sandstorm smiled wryly. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" She teased, a mischievous light sparkling in her eyes. "You're my daughter! Of course I'd notice!" She paused and cleared her throat awkwardly. "You'll also be required to help the maids with the chores for a month and you have to help the stablemen with the horses for a week. I'm sure they will not notice if you decide to take long breaks in between duties."

Her mother quivered slightly before her façade cracked and another proud smile spread across her face. "I am so proud of you right now," she whispered. "You're growing up to be a strong woman."

"Mother…" Leafpool was at a loss for words. How in the world could her mother be proud of her right now? Now that her anger had faded, she realized just what she had said to Crowfeather and she faintly remembered catching a glimpse of his parents as she followed her mother upstairs. She probably ruined the relationship between the houses of Zephyra and Ebenwing just by speaking out like that. "I just insulted one of the most prestigious families in the house of Ebenwing? Aren't you…being rather lenient with my punishment?" A look of concern crossed her mother's face and Sandstorm frowned thoughtfully at her daughter.

"Leafpool, I understand that you think that the punishment is insufficient. And as much as I know you're going to hate the answer I'm about to give you, I need you to know that the punishment is more than enough." When Leafpool opened her mouth to protest, Sandstorm raised a finger to silence her. "Ashfoot and Deadfoot are both agreeable and understanding people. They may be a little shaken up, but once Squirrelflight—or one of the others—explains what happened to them, they won't take offense to your words. In fact, they'll probably agree with you." Sandstorm frowned softly. "I won't lie to you; the rest of Ebenwing may not agree with their judgment once this news reaches out to them. But as a secret between you and me, the house of Ebenwing is weakening. Right now, they'll do whatever they can to keep some sort of power in our political system even though they're running out of heritage blood.

"Anyway, the punishment that I've given you is mostly to appease the Ebenwings that might be ruffled up by what you said to Crowfeather. And also to see if our new maids respect us enough to keep to themselves and not gossip with servants from the other houses." A scowl crossed the auburn-haired woman's face and Leafpool mentally noted that her mother seemed to have some standing resentment toward gossiping staff. "Your father is proud of you too—just give him a time to realize that his daughter doesn't need to hide behind him anymore and he'll tell you just how proud he is." Sandstorm smiled gently at her daughter. "You did the right thing. You stood up for your sister and you and for yourself. That's all I could ever ask for.

"Leafpool, that was the first time that I have ever seen you lose your temper with someone. Even when you disagree with things, you don't speak up for yourself. And the dedication that you showed to Squirrelflight today makes it clear to me that you love her very much." A wistful smile crossed Sandstorm's face. "I'm not scared of this family breaking apart anymore. I was always afraid that you would break away because of how everyone thinks that you're just living in the shadow of your sister. But you're not. You proved that tonight—to everyone."

Despite the overjoyed haze that was clouding Leafpool's mind at her mother's praise, she couldn't help but feel a dark shadow settle over her heart. _Not scared of this family breaking apart anymore? Our family was breaking apart?_ But something inside of Leafpool inhibited her from asking her mother for clarification. The haunted look in her mother's eyes made the brunette wonder if her world was going to start falling to pieces around her.

The last few days flew by with little incident. Leafpool stood respectfully by the doorway as Squirrelflight hugged her friends and waved goodbye as their carriages rode away. Tawnypelt stopped by the brunette and gave her a tight hug, giving her a gentle smile before promising that she and her brother would pay them another visit sometime soon.

Out of all of Squirrelflight's friends, Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw lived closest. Herobexy manor was approximately forty-five minutes away from the Zephyra manor and the two aristocrats took to visiting Firestar's family at least twice a month. Graystripe was usually the one who drove them over on the weekends, seeing that he practically lived at the Zephyra manor with occasional visits to his childhood home. Crowfeather's home was much further away—it took about eleven hours to travel to and from his manor to Firestar's. As for Stormfur and Feathertail, their manor was at least ten hours away. The two Riverside aristocrats usually spent an entire day getting to and from the Zephyra manor. Because of how much further away the two of them were, their visits were much less frequent and with luck, they would visit at least three times a year with Graystripe bringing them over.

Dustpelt, who was responsible for bringing the Herobexy aristocrats home, saluted to Sandstorm and flicked the reigns. Leafpool watched as Squirrelflight brushed past Crowfeather and moved over to hug Feathertail and her brother. The redhead and the silver-haired girl kissed each other on the cheek and waved goodbye before they climbed into their carriage. Graystripe, who was responsible for getting them home, hugged Sandstorm and gave Firestar a warm squeeze on the shoulder. "See ya in a bit, Leafpool," he murmured affectionately before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"See you in a bit, Graystripe," she whispered back. His amber eyes twinkled at her before he climbed onto his coach and started up the horses. Leafpool watched nervously as Squirrelflight turned to her remaining friend—Crowfeather. The two of them shared a cautious hug and Leafpool felt a stab of guilt for creating a rift between her sister and her friend. Lifting his head from Squirrelflight's shoulder, Crowfeather directed his icy blue eyes to where Leafpool stood and she flinched at the intensity of his gaze. The two of them stared at one another until Squirrelflight pulled away from him and he stepped back to follow his parents into their carriage. As they drove away, Leafpool stared after the coach, wondering if Crowfeather was staring back at her through the tinted glass.

"You okay, Leafa?"

"I'm fine," Leafpool affirmed quietly. "But I should be asking you that. After all, our tutors are returning tomorrow." She couldn't help but smile at her sister's dramatic groan and disgruntled mumbles at the thought of their tutoring sessions.

"Why can't we just give them vacations for the rest of their lives? I'm sure hunting will do me much better," Squirrelflight declared loudly throwing a look in her father's direction.

"That's because we don't have enough money to do that for all of your professors," Sandstorm replied curtly, her lips twitching in amusement.

"Not to mention that, but the whole reason why we pay tutors to teach you is because we want you two to grow up to be educated young women," Firestar quipped, snorting affectionately at his two daughters. "Tell you what; if you attend each and every session for the weeks to come, I'll reward you by taking you to self-defense lessons with me. Leafpool can come too, if she's interested."

"Whadaya say, Leafa?" Squirrelflight asked immediately, whirling around to face her sister. "Doesn't that seem fun? Now you can actually figure out how to take down Crowfeather!"

"Figure out?" Leafpool echoed. "What are you talking about? I know exactly how to hunt him down." She paused and added, "But the lessons do sound interesting. I'd like to come too, father."

"Hunt him down?" Firestar repeated, a stricken expression coming across his face. Beside him, Sandstorm's eyes glittered with amusement. "I don't remember any of the tutors having hunting lessons in their curriculum."

"We don't have hunting lessons if we're not out hunting, father," Leafpool giggled. "It's easy enough to learn how to hunt _and_ take someone down."

"Enlighten me."

"Well…acupuncture." At her father's raised eyebrows, Leafpool flushed uncomfortably. "They teach you about pressure points and everything. If you were to apply enough pressure to certain spot, you could easily kill someone…"

"And who's teaching you acupuncture?"

"Your library?"

"My libr—what? My library? What kind of books do I have in there?" Firestar slapped his forehead in confusion.

"Obviously the kind that can teach Leafpool how to take someone down," Sandstorm retorted. She smiled thoughtfully at her daughter. "I think it's alright that she knows all of this, though. I trust Leafpool to be reasonable and rational." She shot an amused glance at Squirrelflight, who protested at not being considered reasonable or rational. "After all, she's only read about the different pressure points, right? It takes practice to actually learn how to work with them."

"That's true," Leafpool agreed. "But I can't say that it's impossible to work through trial and error."

"That, I would like to say no to," Firestar said quickly, completely missing the mischievous smiles his wife and daughter shared. "I don't need you killing half the population before deciding how much pressure is really needed to kill someone."

"Don't worry, father. I'm more interested in saving lives than taking them." She puffed her chest out slightly. "Cinderpelt says that she wants to teach me how to be a doctor. She says that she'll start letting me dissect animals if you'd let me."

"We'll see," Firestar sighed.

"The best doctors come from those who have had experience early on," Sandstorm pointed out.

"Are you with me or are you not?" Firestar looked exasperatedly at his wife.

"I'm doing what I think is right, and that is to allow my daughter to study things that will only benefit her." She gave her husband a pointed look. "Now you're not going to divest our daughter of that, are you?"

Third Person – Crowfeather

He bid his parents goodnight despite the fact that it was early in the morning. Although the trip had only taken about six hours, he was exhausted. It was nearly impossible to fall asleep on the road, especially with how bumpy the roads could be if the driver was not careful. Thankfully, his parents understood his need to take the day off and quickly went to do the same.

Crowfeather climbed up the spiral staircase of the house, nodding sleepily at the butlers who bowed to him on his way to his room. Closing the doors behind him, he stripped himself quickly and dazedly reminded himself that his little vacation was over. Tomorrow's schedule would undeniably be the same as usual. Tutoring, fencing lessons and other activities that Crowfeather would have to participate in order to inherit the role as the head of the house of Ebenwing.

Although it was most reasonable for Deadfoot to become the next head of the house after Tallstar (seeing it as he was the only adult male with heritage blood in Ebenwing), the current head insisted that it would be easier to teach both father and son the responsibilities of being the head at once. In all honesty, Crowfeather wasn't looking forward to the idea of becoming head of Ebenwing. Now that there were only three members of the house in possession of heritage blood, a lot of the inherited aristocrats feared that they would lose their status as nobles and clung onto their current leader like limpets. Becoming head seemed like a suffocating position that Crowfeather was less than willing to occupy, but he was still forced to attend Telstar's lessons.

As his throbbing head reminded him of his body's need for sleep, the blue-eyed boy walked over to his windows and quickly pulled the curtains over the glass. Yawning, he slid under the covers and shifted for a few moments before drifting off into sleep.

 _Crowfeather stepped along the pebbled shore of a wide river, turning over the smooth stones as he passed. He shook his body irritably—the light drizzle was making his pelt thick and heavy. As he continued to walk along the water, he began to wonder what he was even doing by the river. Windclan cats were probably the most resentful toward water—rabbits disliked the rain just as much as felines did. Although it was good to have rain bringing in the new shoots of grass for rabbits, it forced the outdoors-obsessed cats to take shelter in caves, tunnels, and under trees. Crowfeather shook his head irritably at the thought—he would much rather sleep outside with the wind blowing over his head like a caress. At the same time, a damp pelt often equated to the contraction of greencough or whitecough._

 _The river spilled into a pool that reflected the stars that filled the sky above. He glanced back at the mouth of the river and watched the starlight glittered across its moving surface. 'Father, can you hear me?' Crowfeather thought to himself as he lifted his nose to the lights that twinkled overhead. 'Tallstar, are you watching over me?' Two of the most respected figures of his life were gone—leaving him alone in an unfamiliar land that was just recently discovered by the clans._

 _"Crowfeather," a gentle voice called. Crowfeather whipped his head around just as a stunning silver tabby stepped out of the grass. Her blue eyes shimmered as she padded toward him, her feathered tail lifted high above her head in greeting. His heart melted at the tenderness in her eyes._

 _"Feathertail," he whispered. "I knew you'd be here." He leaned forward to touch noses with her. When her figure passed over his, he felt a twinge of bitterness. It was hard to love a cat who no longer walked on the face of the earth. It was even harder when she still visited his dreams._

 _"Of course, Crowfeather. I'll always be here." Crowfeather drew back in shock when the cold, ghostly muzzle solidified and became warm, pressing against his gently. Instead of meeting the crystalline blue eyes of Feathertail, he found himself drowning in the depths of Leafpool's amber eyes._

 _"Of course you will," Crowfeather murmured quietly, a warmth spreading though his entire body as rubbing his head against her chin. "Always." Instead of hearing her familiar, rumbling purr, and the sleekness of her pelt as she intertwined her tail with his, he felt Leafpool pull away from him as the image of Feathertail stepped between them._

 _"Crowfeather," the silver cat whispered, her eyes glowing passionately at him._

 _"Feathertail…Leafpool?" Torn, the dark-haired tom glanced back and forth between the two she-cats. Leafpool watched him woefully before bowing her head and retreating. Feathertail padded over to him immediately, purring as she wrapped herself around him. Staring after Leafpool, who stopped a few fox-lengths away, he felt his breath catch in his throat. "I-I don't understand. What's happening here?" Feathertail blinked at him and glanced over to Leafpool, who turned to face an advancing shadow. Crowfeather bristled slightly when a black tom walked out of the darkness and touched noses with the honey-brown cat._

 _"Crowfeather, you didn't know?" Concern and uncertainty shone in Feathertail's blue eyes as she blocked his view of the two cats. "You have been chosen." Peering past Feathertail, he saw Leafpool pick up a jet-black feather and gaze at him with forlorn eyes. "And you have chosen."_

 _"Chosen? Chosen for what?" It was difficult for him to pull away from Feathertail, but the heartbroken expression in Leafpool's eyes as the black tom wound around her tugged at Crowfeather's heartstrings._

 _"Chosen for—"_

"Wake up, young master. You've been asleep for well over fifteen hours. Your tutor should arrive soon. Please eat your breakfast while it's still fresh." Crowfeather blinked blearily as rays of sunlight flooded his room. He stared dazedly at his butler, who patiently stood with a tray in his hands.

 _What was all that about?_ Crowfeather thought to himself as he lifted himself up into a seating position and took the tray from his butler. _Feathertail and Leafpool? In a dream together? What was Feathertail talking about—with chosen things and whatnot? Why were all of us cats? Who was that black cat that just popped up out of nowhere?_ Crowfeather paused. _Why was Leafpool holding a black feather?_

"Young master, the food is spilling over." Startled, the black-haired boy quickly repositioned the tray on his knees and let out a sigh of relief when the glass of orange juice didn't tip over. "I have news from a maid. It seems that your tutor will meet you in the library in about fifteen minutes. I suggest you hurry, young master." Crowfeather looked down uncertainly at the food on his plate before wolfing it down. Thrusting the tray in his butler's direction, he stumbled over to the bathroom in order to compose himself.

Third Person – Omniscient

A woman studied the stars above and swirled the teacup within her fingers as she leaned against her screen door. The starlight glittered on the white-streaked hair and her tired eyes lifted up to the heavens. She took a small sip from the tea in her hands, relishing the subtle bitterness of the beverage. All was quiet until two stars from opposite ends of the sky streaked across the dark night and disappeared at a single point. The woman stiffened and raced inside, downing the rest of her tea and racing to her kitchen table.

She grabbed a stack of cards, a notepad, and set her empty teacup down. Pulling up a chair, she quickly seated herself and took to analyzing the contents of the porcelain cup. She made note of the two crossed items at the bottom—both which where pointed at one end and rounded off toward the end—and what seemed to be a sprig of grass or a sapling of some sort.

 _Two leaves (?), Sprig of grass, Sapling (?)_

She briskly pushed her teacup away and pulled the cards toward her. She shuffled the deck, split it in half, and shuffled it. She flipped over the first card and froze at the image. Quickly, she drew eleven more cards and laid them out in the order in which she had drawn them.

The first card was split diagonally between a black figure and a white figure. _The friend and the foe_. The second displayed a glowing orb that filled the entire card with light and purity. _The truth_. The third depicted a crowned lion in a plain of grass. _The king_. The fourth contained a picture of a hive of some sorts. _The kingdom_. The fifth revealed a shooting star. _Dreams_ _and achievement_. The sixth showed a crouched man with bleeding calves who was clenching his fists and shouting in a hunched-over position. _Hardship_. The seventh was of a serpent coiling around a skeletal figure. _The viper_. The eighth contained a scale. _A choice_. The ninth card was of a shadow towering over a figure. _The Shadow_. The tenth was of a beautiful woman cupping a star in her palms. _Destiny._ The eleventh depicted a skeletal figure with a dark cloak and a long, curved scythe. _Death_. The twelfth showed two pathways weaving together until they disappeared into the distance. _Lover's destiny._

The woman spread out the twelve cards and trailed her fingers over them. "The friend and the foe, the truth, the king, the kingdom, the dreams and achievement, hardship, the viper, a choice, the shadows, destiny, death, and the chosen lovers." Frowning at the ominous message of her cards, the woman pulled over her teacup again all while adding to her notes.

Two leaves, raindrops, feathers (?) – Unity of two people? Birds of a feather? Leaves of a tree? Sprig of grass/herbs (?) – healing, cooking, the earth, Sapling (?) – earth, life, trees, stability

Her furious scribbling stopped just as the point of her quill snapped clean off. She stared at the notebook and her cards, alternating between the two as she quickly made connections between them. _King…the king of the cards, the grass of the earth, the tree…_ Suddenly, the realization hit her. "The next king has been chosen," she whispered, eyes darting around her empty home. Puzzled, she tapped the _Death_ card and frowned. "But this death is not of Willowpelt the Third…"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter THREE:**

Third Person – Squirrelflight

It took Firestar five years to finally give into Leafpool's wishes and give Cinderpelt the "okay". Squirrelflight been ecstatic at the thought of her sister pursuing her dream, but she quickly realized that the more time Leafpool spent studying, the less time she had for everything else. The brunette seemed to stop drawing and Squirrelflight began to reminisce about the days where Leafpool would linger outside of their father's study to ask for a new sketchbook. In addition to this, the amber-eyed girl had less and less time to actually _eat_ with the rest of her family. Squirrelflight had been a little unnerved when she saw Leafpool's chair empty at dinnertime, but balked when she realized her sister stopped attending family meals altogether.

Whenever the redhead tried to get ahold of the brunette, Leafpool would often apologize and mutter something about how she had back-to-back classes with her tutors. Now, it seemed as if Leafpool didn't have time to check up with her sister—or even just give her a hug. No, Leafpool was too busy pushing past her limits, pursuing her dreams, and finding who she really was. As much as Squirrelflight resented how her sister didn't even have time for her, she couldn't take any of that away from Leafpool. Instead, she did whatever she could to help the brunette.

It was ritual for Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt to seek out Leafpool whenever they visited, but Squirrelflight would drag them around the manor until they were too tuckered out to care. Whenever it seemed that her sister was hitting a slump in her studies, Squirrelflight would bring up a cup of milk and honey to soothe her mind. When Leafpool passed out at her desk, the redhead would carefully wrap a blanket around her sister and blow out the candles.

In the meantime, Squirrelflight took to strengthening her body and sharpening her skills. At the end of every week, she spent would spend an entire day with her father—either hunting or sparring. In her free time, she would help the stablemen with the horses and help the maids carry laundry around the manor. She practiced archery with her mother, shooting with her dad, wrestling with Graystripe, and cooking from the kitchen staff. She did everything she could to fill up the empty, lonely spot that Leafpool once inhabited in her heart.

In the midst of her chaotic life, Squirrelflight found herself noticing all the little things she never considered when she was younger. Firestar kept more to himself and she often saw butlers bringing empty bottles down from the master bedroom. He seemed to grow more and more distracted during her practices and just yesterday, he snapped at Graystripe for commenting about the weather. The heritage aristocrat took to staring out the windows, muttering to himself, and pacing while Squirrelflight took in the reactions of the staff and her family.

Cinderpelt often shielded Leafpool from noticing anything about her father, and while Squirrelflight was thankful that her sister was being spared, a part of her was furious that her sister was kept oblivious. Graystripe began to plaster fake smiles on his face and spent more time out in the fields than in the den. The maids chirped worriedly to themselves, casting sympathetic looks to the various aristocrats that walked by. The tutors became even more stiff than usual, although they all seemed to sag whenever they were in the safety of the library or Squirrelflight's room.

Out of everyone, Squirrelflight's mother was taking to her husband's actions the hardest. The lively, charismatic woman turned ashen and dazed. The smallest thing could set her temper off, but it took only a few seconds before she was stuttering her apologies and staring off in horror. There were a few times that Squirrelflight had walked into the den to see Graystripe kneeling before a sobbing Sandstorm. The gray-haired man often pressed a finger to his lips and gently held the crying woman's hands within his own. In those moments, Squirrelflight could only stare at the husk of the aristocrat who used to be her mother and it wasn't long before she pieced the pieces together. The only problem was to get Leafpool to see how exactly their family was falling apart.

She had waited months already. Squirrelflight could almost see her mother snap in half like a dry twig. Clearing her throat, she knocked determinedly on her sister's door and called out to her. "Leafpool? Can we talk for a few minutes?" The furious sound of scribbling stopped and a few long seconds passed before the brunette was at the door. Squirrelflight took in her sister's appearance, feeling a bitter lump grow in her throat as the bags under Leafpool's eyes and how frazzled her hair was.

"Squirrelflight?" The brunette blinked twice, as if she wasn't sure if her sister was really before her. "Of course! Come on in." She stepped aside and Squirrelflight entered the room, feeling a flicker of hope run through her at the sight of the sketches that decorated the walls. Flowers, faces, and scenes took the place of the medical notes that Squirrelflight imagined her sister would have everywhere. Momentarily forgetting her original purpose for coming, the redhead stroked a sketch of two people splashing one another. Scrawled below the image were the names "Squirrelflight" and "Brambleclaw". The redhead felt a smile touch her lips as she turned to face her sister.

"You put up your sketches," she murmured thoughtfully. Leafpool frowned at her, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"Of course," the brunette replied uncertainly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you'd have medical notes and pictures of the human body up instead…" Squirrelflight snorted at the sheer absurdity of her own thoughts. Leafpool shot her a bemused grin before raising her eyes and scanning her walls.

"I miss you all," she admitted, crossing her arms. "I'd come down more often if I could, but for the past few weeks, I've been staring at my sketches in place of your faces."

"Well, at least they look like us. Guess I don't have to worry about being forgotten by my sister anymore," Squirrelflight chuckled. A tender smile crossed Leafpool's face and she gazed at her sister lovingly.

"I could never forget you, Squirrelflight," she whispered. The two of them shared a warm smile before Squirrelflight quickly remembered why she dropped by.

"Leafa, there's something wrong in our family." Immediately, the peaceful expression on Leafpool's face was replaced with seriousness. The redhead fidgeted with her hands before blurting out, "I think papa's tearing us apart. I don't know why he's doing it, but—"

"Father tearing us apart? How?"

"He yelled at Graystripe for talking about the weather, the butlers keep on bringing empty wine bottles from his room…" She trailed off, gazing helplessly at her sister. "Mama's been fading, Leafa. Fading and crying like a shadow."

"Mother? Leafpool's eyes flew open in shock. "I—oh Starreign—how did I not notice?"

 _Cinderpelt's been keeping secrets to keep up your morale,_ Squirrelflight thought ruefully. She would've done the same had she been in the tutor's shoes. "You've been busy studying," the redhead offered, crossing her legs.

"Studying isn't a good enough excuse to be oblivious to the fact that our family's breaking into pieces!" Leafpool snapped, her eyebrows furrowing in distress. She bit her lip out of nervous habit. "What do we do?" Squirrelflight squeezed her eyes tightly before meeting her sister's anxious amber eyes.

"I don't know, Leafa."

Third Person - Leafpool

 _Leafpool flicked her tail back and forth as she lifted her eyes to the starry sky. When sleep failed to find her, Leafpool had stepped out of her den to listen to the sound of the clan at night. Firestar and Sandstorm were most likely curled up together in his den while Squirrelflight rested with the others in the warrior's den._ I should try to get some sleep again _, she thought to herself as she turned to pad into her den again._

 _Just as she turned her head, a small, glowing light caught the corner of her eye. Freezing, Leafpool watched as the orb drifted by her nose and fluttered away, pausing a few feet away. When she stared after it, it floated closer to her before drifting back to its earlier location. Glancing around her nervously, Leafpool decided to follow the orb, carefully making her way through the camp without causing too much noise. Trailing a tail-length behind the orb, Leafpool allowed it to lead her to moonpool. The brown she-cat's ears flattened in confusion as she made her way to the sacred body of water. The entire expanse of sky was reflected on its waters, glittering and shimmering as its surface rippled._

Starclan, why have you called me here? _Was there a message for her to bring to Mothwing again? Or a solution to Squirrelflight's tangled relationship with Ashfur and Brambleclaw?_ Maybe… _Was she summoned to address her sentiments on—_

 _"Leafpool." The she-cat jumped at her name and whirled around to see a beautiful tortoiseshell cat pad toward her. Immediately, she relaxed, her tail sweeping in an arc before resting at her side._

 _"Spottedleaf. Did you wish to speak to me?" The newcomer's ears twitched and she shook her head._

 _"No, it seems that it was your own heart that brought you here. It was also your troubled heart that drew me here." Spottedleaf cocked her head and gazed thoughtfully at Leafpool. "What is it you wish to know, Leafpool?" The brown she-cat's fur prickled uncomfortably at her elder's question. There was so much she wanted to ask; so much to know about everything. But there was one answer that she needed to know more than anything else._

 _"Are you in love with my father?" She blurted out, claws unintentionally unsheathing in her haste. Graystripe, the beloved storyteller of their manor, had once told her that Firestar had fallen in love with a woman from Necrasung. It seemed that he had loved her so much that he had intended to marry her, but disaster struck before he could propose._

"It was a strange time," _she remembered Graystripe saying._ "He courted her for three months before he wanted to marry her. I was a bit surprised, but hey, it only took me five months to decide I wanted to marry Silverstream." _A thoughtful, wistful expression crossed the man's face._ "I think he really loved her. He wasn't the same after she died. Even though Sandstorm did bring some of him back," _he had added quickly._ "I think he still hasn't gotten over her death yet. I think some part of him still loves her dearly." Even more than he loves mother? _That had been the question that Leafpool sealed in her throat, hoping that it would never come to the surface. But now, faced with the threat of her family falling apart at the seams, it seemed like the best time to find her answer._

 _Spottedleaf seemed completely taken aback by Leafpool's question. The tortoiseshell cat stared at her for a few minutes before her figure relaxed. "Leafpool, that's not of importance. All you need to know is that your father loves your mother very much—"_

 _"No, it is," Leafpool insisted, cutting the she-cat off. Something was gnawing uncomfortably at her heart when she saw a wary lock flicker through Spottedleaf's eyes. "Are you in love with my father?"_

 _"Leafpool. "Spottedleaf sounded exhausted, fear more apparent in her voice._

 _"Are. You. In. Love. With. My. Father?" Leafpool grit out._

 _"Yes. I have and I always will be." An icy dagger pierced her heart at Spottedleaf's words—the eternal love proclamation only seemed to increase the distance between her parents right now. "But Leafpool, please understand—"_

 _"If you were alive right now, would you be standing by his side?" When the medicine cat failed to answer her, Leafpool bristled angrily. "Well?" She demanded._

 _"Yes."_

 _"Did you love him when courted you?"_

 _"At the very end, yes." Spottedleaf's eyes gazed beseechingly into Leafpool's. "Your father is an amazing man," she whispered. "His love made me remember how I felt for him in a past life. At the end of our courtship…I loved him far more than I ever have before." A tender look crossed her face. "The way he looks at me when I visit his dreams…I am still in love with your father, Leafpool. Truly, and deeply in love."_

 _Her words made Leafpool feel as if someone had raked their claws down the side of her face._ Betrayal. Anger. Disbelief. _She couldn't believe Spottedleaf still visited her father. She couldn't believe how her father was treating her mother._ Fear. _Every hair on Leafpool's pelt stood up suddenly and Spottedleaf's eyes quickly flickered back to her surprise. This couldn't be. Leafpool couldn't even imagine how broken their family would ever be if Firestar were to fall back in love with Spottedleaf._ How do you know he's not in love with her right now? _A small voice challenged her._

 _"Leafpool, do not fear for your family." The she-cat turned her eyes on the tortoiseshell in disbelief. How could she say that? Spottedleaf's eyes glittered bitterly. "I was never meant to fall in love—and neither are you." Leafpool's blood chilled as the medicine cat gazed at her with bitter humor. "Romance is an illusion for medicine cats like us," Spottedleaf whispered, stalking toward her. "Take your feelings…" Her amber eyes cut into Leafpool like a knife. "…_ and destroy them. _" The brown she-cat opened her mouth to reply, but before she could do anything, Spottedleaf's jaws closed around her neck._

Leafpool awoke with a jolt, breathing heavily as she gathered her bearings. Her hands flew up to her neck, probing for tender spots or open wounds. _It was a dream,_ she thought dazedly, staring at her spotless hands. Then time caught up to her and her dream crashed over her like a wave. _Great Starreign,_ she thought, throwing off her covers. _I have to talk to Squirrelflight!_

Squirrelflight had all but stormed out of her room when she heard what had happened last night. The redhead growled something about "letting off some steam" before disappearing from the manor. Leafpool, who stood in the same place for at least five minutes in shock, finally collected her thoughts and drifted to the dining room. After informing the servants of what she wanted, she settled down in her usual spot, frowning when the chair felt different.

 _I haven't sit here for a long time_ , Leafpool thought, suddenly wondering just how many dinnertime conversations that she missed. If she had eaten here with everyone else…would she have been able to see exactly what Squirrelflight had seen all along? _I can't study for the rest of my life_ , she thought irritably. _I need to start organizing my life. I can't study all day and I can't spend all day with my family._ Her temples throbbed and she rubbed at them absentmindedly, throwing a brief smile over her shoulder when a servant placed her breakfast before her. _I'll just have to compromise, then._

Taking a small bite of her eggs, a smile graced her lips when its flavors exploded in her mouth. It had been a long time since she was able to enjoy any meal like this. She usually ate and worked at the same time, often oblivious to what she was putting in her mouth. There was even one time where Cinderpelt had stopped her from putting a buttered sock into her mouth. "Wouldn't want to forget your favorite, would we?" Leafpool nearly jumped at the sudden voice, but relaxed when she saw one of the servants wink at her as he set a glass of orange juice next to her plate. "Freshly squeezed in a manner of seconds—the chef nearly had a dancing fit when he saw you come in."

"It has been a while," she agreed.

"Well then, welcome back," he replied, giving her one last grin before heading back into the kitchen. Leafpool blinked after him gratefully before turning back to her food. The head chef had certainly gone out of his way for her, she thought as she poked at the tomato slices on her plate. Sausages, scrambled eggs, tomato slices, jam with bread—all of her breakfast favorites. She giggled as she took another sip of orange juice, tasting the small sugar lumps that didn't melt properly in the beverage. _How sweet_ , she thought fondly, _and quite literally as well. It's been a long time since I've had sweetened orange juice._

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Leafpool looked up to see Graystripe grinning at her from the doorway. "Did you notice how much dust was collecting on your chair? I swear that the staff wasn't wiping down your chair just to show you how long you haven't eaten with us!" The brunette ran her finger over the edge of her chair and snorted when she saw the layer of dust on her skin. "Of course, I managed to convince them to give it a wipe every two weeks. You should've seen the fight that Squirrely put up against me!" Leafpool giggled and Graystripe pressed a kiss to her temple before sitting down to her left.

"You're looking a bit pale," he murmured softly. "Feeling alright?"

"Sleepy," Leafpool replied, taking another bite of her eggs. She glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't expect you to be up this early."

"Early? Leafy, it's already six thirty." Amusement twinkled in his amber eyes. "If anything, this is _late_ for me."

"But father always said you had a hard time waking up in the morning."

"Having kids can change you, Leafy. If my kids wanted me to wake up at four every morning just to say good night, I'd do it in a second." Graystripe smiled gratefully over his shoulder when a servant gently set his dinner before him. "Anyway, it seems that Firestar hasn't changed his habits yet. Lazy aristocrat," he snorted fondly, shaking his head. "Where's Squirrely? She's been keeping me company in these early mornings…"

"She's…frustrated with something," Leafpool replied, suddenly losing her appetite. "I think she went out to relieve some stress." Graystripe cocked an eyebrow at her and she hesitated before spilling out the thoughts that were accumulating in her mind. "Squirrelflight told me that father's been hurting mother lately. I've been so busy that I haven't noticed, and…" she paused before choking out, "I think it's because of Spottedleaf." At her name, Graystripe stiffened visibly and a dark look crossed his face.

" _What?_ " he hissed. His amber eyes blazed with a mixture of shock and anger. "Wh—wha—how— _her_?" When Leafpool gave him a small nod, he stared down at his plate in disgust. "That's it," he growled, pushing away from the table. "I'm going to have a talk with him." Noticing the worried expression on Leafpool's face, he gave her a quick smile and ruffled her hair. "Just a talk, Leafy. I'll see if I can kn—talk some sense into him." Shaking his head, Graystripe left the dining room and a very anxious Leafpool behind. _Starreign help us_ , she thought helplessly.

When Graystripe promised to talk to Firestar, Leafpool had been expecting the worst. It seemed to come true the next morning, when both men appeared at the dining table roughed up and wary. One of Graystripe's eyes was swollen and black and there was a hard bruise on his cheek. Firestar, on the hand, came to breakfast with a cut lip and bruises on his cheekbone and jaw. Squirrelflight, who walked in for the meal a little later than usual, had stared at both men throughout breakfast, alternating between the two. Sandstorm kept her head down the entire time, nibbling at her food before deciding that she couldn't even pretend to eat. Firestar pointedly ignored his wife the entire time, keeping his eyes firmly planted on his plate.

Graystripe smiled apologetically at Leafpool when he caught her eye and winced when he chewed on his toast. Squirrelflight looked absolutely livid, all but ripping her meal apart with her forks. Gathering up her courage, Leafpool picked up her plate and excused herself. She walked into the kitchen and apologized to the chef for not finishing her meal. When she returned, the anger in her sister's eyes had faded significantly and Squirrelflight gazed at her dazedly. The aura around the redhead seemed to scream defeat. _Not yet_ , Leafpool thought.

She walked over to her mother and pressed a kiss to the older woman's cheek. Sandstorm looked up, startled, and even Firestar tore his eyes away from his plate to see what was happening. "Good morning, mother," Leafpool greeted, a broad smile crossing her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw Squirrelflight and Graystripe glance at each other before calling out their own greeting. Sandstorm looked stunned for a few seconds, but her face quickly split into a tender smile as she gazed at her friend and her two daughters.

Now that she was standing close by, Leafpool felt her heart seize up as she took in her mother's appearance. Sandstorm's cheekbones were sunken in and her eyes seemed glassy. Although the aristocrat continued to hold herself proudly, there was an aura of exhaustion floating around her. There were heavy bags resting underneath the green-eyed woman's eyes and her magnificent auburn hair seemed dull and dry. Feeling guilty for not noticing earlier, Leafpool leaned into her mother, resting her cheek gently against her mother's temple.

"What are you thinking of doing today?" Sandstorm asked, pressing a kiss to her daughter's jaw.

"Mmmm…it's been a while since I've taken a break from my studies," Leafpool mused. "I think I'll work on my art for a little bit." A smile touched the corner of her lips when she saw Squirrelflight's face brighten up. "Thirteen year olds need to have some freedom and relaxation in their lives."

"Of course," Sandstorm snorted, her eyes twinkling with a familiar green spark. "I didn't raise you to be a hermit!" Leafpool laughed and hesitantly threw a glance in her father's direction. Her heart plummeted when she saw the lost, confused expression on his face as he gazed at his wife. He blinked rapidly a few times before leaving the dining room without drawing any attention to himself. However, Leafpool felt the subtle tilt of her mother's head as the auburn-haired woman watched her husband exit the room.

Third Person – Crowfeather

After arriving at the Zephyra manor for a visit, he was quickly greeted by a somber-eyed Brambleclaw, who quickly filled him in on the situation at hand. Supposedly, there was some sort of conflict between the head of the Zephyra house and his wife and their two daughters were sandwiched right in the middle. "It turns out that Graystripe strictly forbid Stormfur and Feathertail from coming over," Brambleclaw told him as the two of them walked into the manor house. "I guess he didn't want to get them involved."

 _And he didn't bother to keep us out of it as well?_ Crowfeather raised an eyebrow at Brambleclaw's words, but choice not to voice his thoughts. The Herobexy aristocrat was most likely here for moral support, and Crowfeather couldn't think of a good enough reason to why he shouldn't be supporting Squirrelflight in a time of difficulty. _I've seen my parents fight for months,_ he thought bitterly. _I can easily guess how Squirrelflight and Leafpool are holding up. At least they have each other_ , he thought begrudgingly. Being an only child, he only could depend on himself to stay strong.

 _Speaking of which, it's been forever since I've seen Leafpool._ During his visits in the past five years, he had rarely caught sight of the brunette. On the rare occasions that he did see her, she was always busy with something—talking to a golden-haired girl, lounging around in the library, or grabbing a snack from the kitchen. According to her sister, Leafpool had submerged herself in research and studying in pursuit of her dream to become a doctor. In addition to grueling hours with a mathematics tutor, literature tutor, foreign language tutor, history tutor, and Cinderpelt's science courses, she had to conduct experiments on her own and catalog the results of every dissection she made in copious amounts of detail.

 _If anything, it sounds as she's just trying to overwork herself._ Squirrelflight had admitted that if she were subjected to the same, rigorous course, she would've broken down and run for her life. " _If I had even a fraction of Leafpool's persistence_ ," the redhead had mumbled enviously. " _Maybe I'd be a much better student._ " Despite the fact that Leafpool was really dedicated to her dreams of becoming a doctor, Crowfeather couldn't help but feel as if Leafpool was purposely avoiding him. A small piece of him was silently unnerved by her absence.

Everything seemed to be falling down all around him. Squirrelflight was struggling with her family, Leafpool was drowning herself in her studies, Feathertail was beginning to receive marriage proposals, and Tallstar's body grew frailer and frailer with each day. _Growing up was supposed to make everything better_ , Crowfeather thought irritably as he stepped into the main hallway. _Glad to know it's doing the exact opposite. Any more of this and I swear I'll end up bald by the end of the day._

Crowfeather flinched when something brushed up against him and he looked up to see Leafpool climbing up the staircase. _She's probably going to drown herself in her studies again. I shouldn't bother—_ "Hey, Leafpool!" — _shut up, stupid mouth. Ignore me, Leafpool. Pretend that you didn't hear me._ Deep inside, however, he knew that she was too well-mannered not to answer. When Leafpool turned her amber gaze onto him warily, he felt as if he were submerged in a pit of golden lava, the air around him clinging to him like molasses.

"Yes?" She inquired softly. As the two of them continued to stare at each other, the tension between them grew until it was almost unbearable. Just as the brunette turned her head away, Crowfeather found his voice.

"Did you finish the wood carving?" Leafpool blinked at him in surprise before giving him a cautious nod. "Can I see it?" Uncertainty crossed her face, but she gave him another small nod before gesturing to the stairs. Crowfeather followed her eyes before climbing up after her, his mind scrambling to comprehend the situation at hand. He hadn't spoken to her in five years, and suddenly the first thing he asks about is the art piece that he screwed up? _I always think of the best things to say, don't I?_ He asked himself irritably. _That earned me a death threat from her five years ago. Why don't I something else and actually have Squirrelflight act on her warning?_ The silence was unnerving, but he had a feeling that if he spoke first, it would be a long time before Leafpool would ever speak to him again.

"How have you been these last few years?" Crowfeather's head shot up in surprise at Leafpool's hesitant question. She glanced at him shyly, her amber eyes passing on her silent plea for friendship. The blue-eyed boy gazed at her thoughtfully, suddenly noticing the physical differences between the Leafpool he saw before him and the Leafpool he knew five years ago. She had lost a majority of her baby-fat and her honey brown hair spilled across her shoulders like molten copper. _Five years can change a person_ , he thought, taking in her shy smile with one of his own.

"I've been doing fairly well," he replied amicably. A warmth spread through his chest at the delighted gleam in her amber eyes at his response. "I've been learning from Tallstar about politics and I've had to attend quite a few boring social gatherings, but I seem to be a little more agreeable than my father on terms of socializing." Leafpool chuckled and a genuine smile crossed his face. "And you?"

"I've been studying hard," the brunette replied easily, but the haunted look in her eyes informed Crowfeather that she was aware of her family's compromising situation. "I think I'm a bit early in the career planning area, but I know that I want to be a doctor when I'm older." A smile settled on her lips. "Cinderpelt's been giving me a head start with her lessons." Crowfeather blinked when she stopped in front of a door and gently pushed it open. They were already at her room? Leafpool stepped aside and Crowfeather entered the room first, staring in awe at the drawings that decorated the walls. There were sketches of him and his friends at the river, pictures of the servants of the manor, and portraits of Leafpool's family pinned against the wood. Drawings of wildflowers fill the spaces in between and there was a beautiful landscape painted the wall connected to her door.

He turned back to Leafpool, who had been watching him curiously. She flushed when he caught her staring, but didn't turn her face away. _The old Leafpool most likely would have_ , Crowfeather thought. She certainly had come a long way. "It's over here," she said softly, lifting the carving from a stand on her bureau. He ran his fingers over it as she passed it over to him and he reveled at how slick the surface was. Crowfeather was no expert in art, but he knew a well-polished piece when he saw one. After all, his mother always lectured new maids whenever they didn't polish her furniture well.

Two figures sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk, both presenting their backs to Crowfeather. The cat and the crow had their heads inclined to one another, as if discussing something of relative importance. To his amazement, his roughly carved leaf mixed into the piece perfectly, almost bringing a sense of reality in what would've been a picture-perfect fantasy. Leafpool was truly a master artist to be able to integrate his carving so well into the rest of her piece.

"I have to thank you again for the leaf." Crowfeather glanced at Leafpool, who gave him a small smile. "I wasn't sure what I was going to put in place of the jagged line."

"I'm just amazed that it works with the rest of the piece," he replied dazedly. "You really are a professional artist."

"Hardly," Leafpool snorted, crossing her arms. It seemed almost surrealistic to Crowfeather at how relaxed she was. "It was lucky that our work complimented each other. All I did was finish the rest of the piece and everything fitted together in the end."

"It's amazing," Crowfeather informed her, running his fingers over the wood again. Her cheeks reddened slightly at the praise and she looked down at her interlaced hands. He brought his eyes to the rest of the room, taking in the detailed sketches of his friends. Although they were drawn as realistically as possible, there was still a stylized layer to Leafpool's portraits. _An idealism of sorts_ , he thought. " _You're_ amazing." He glanced at Leafpool and saw her face flush in embarrassment and shyness. "Is this everything you've ever worked on?"

"No, I have other sketchbooks," she admitted. "I just took out some of my favorite pieces and pinned them up."

"Can I see the others?" Crowfeather thought he saw a flash of fear and uncertainty that flickered through Leafpool's eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. Either way, her body language told him that she was extremely uncomfortable with sharing her sketchbooks with him. He frowned, suddenly unnerved by the idea that Leafpool needed to hide her drawings. It didn't seem like the brunette to harbor secrets, especially ones that seemed to make her _this_ uncomfortable. But Crowfeather quickly recognized that he was making her extremely nervous and he opened his mouth to reassure her. "It's alright if you don't want to—"

"No, no, it's fine," Leafpool cut him off quickly, walking over to a small section of her bookshelf. "I was just…surprised." She began to reach for one, but pulled back just before she touched its spine. "The ones near the bottom are my older sketches and the ones closer to the top are more my more recently finished books." She gestured toward them and stepped back. "Feel free to look at any one of them.

 _You were obviously reaching for one toward the top…_ The thought that she would attempt to pick out a sketchbook for him to see and then give him permission to choose his own only increased Crowfeather's suspicions. She was _definitely_ hiding something…and it had something to do with those sketchbooks. Either way, he plucked a book from the lower shelves and began to flip through it. There were roughly drawn figures and multiple portraits of Squirrelflight making crazy expressions. Suddenly, Leafpool's nervous movements made a little more sense. _She probably wanted to save her sister's reputation_ , he thought, _and her own._ The sketches before him were beautiful, but weren't nearly as aesthetically pleasing as the pieces posted on her walls. After finishing the book, he slipped it back in its place before taking another from a higher shelf. This time, he noticed Leafpool stiffen slightly.

Choosing to ignore her, Crowfeather flipped to the first page and was met with a beautiful sight. It was a drawing of Feathertail dozing in the parlor, cushioned by pillows and leaning against a window. He could almost picture her sitting before him as his eyes independently filled the colors into the piece. It was breathtaking. Flipping through the next few pages, he saw stunning sketches of Tawnypelt and Cinderpelt, flipping through a cookbook and rummaging through the library, respectively. He was a little hurt when he didn't see any sketches of himself, but quickly brushed off the thought. Why would Leafpool go out of her way to draw him? For all he knew, the two of them were not on good terms—or at least not on friendly ones.

To his surprise, however, the entire last quarter of the sketchbook was filled with his face. Various expressions—indifference, annoyance, anger, exasperation, amusement—everything was recorded on the pages of Leafpool's sketchbook. As he examined his pages more carefully, he felt warmth spread through his chest. In Leafpool's eyes, he was beautiful and mysterious. It warmed his heart to know that she thought so highly of him—or at least, that was what he could gather from the attentiveness of the sketches.

A part of him argued that he should feel slightly unnerved by how detailed and accurate the drawings were, but he quickly pushed that small voice aside. These pieces were too beautiful to be seen as antagonistic. When he reached the last page of the sketchbook, he felt fulfilled and cared for. Closing it gently, he looked over at Leafpool. The brunette had averted her eyes and wrung her hands nervously as he examined her drawings. She probably thought that he was angry at her for drawing him and the others. "Thank you," he whispered. Her head shot up in surprise and she stared at him for a few moments before tearing her eyes away.

"I'm sorry for drawing all of you without asking first," she blurted out, her cheeks turning crimson. Crowfeather furrowed his eyebrows at her words—why did she feel obligated to apologize for something so beautiful? "You all were great models and I just…"

"Don't apologize, Leafpool." Her eyes flickered back to his in uncertainty. He gave her a half-hearted smirk as he gently returned the sketchbook to its spot. "I've always seen you as someone who didn't really care too much about the others and I—which is completely understandable since you probably don't see us as friends—and someone who just tagged along for the heck of it, but…" he trailed off, realizing just how rude he was being to the girl who drew him as if he were a deity. "What I want to say is thank you. You make us all look so…beautiful."

Leafpool gazed at him with an unreadable emotion on her face. "It's not hard to draw people who _are_ beautiful," she murmured softly. Crowfeather started at her words and she turned her face away from him. "Feel free to look through the others," she said calmly. "I have to talk to Cinderpelt for a little bit." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "If it's not too much trouble," she mumbled, "please close the door when you're done." With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving a speechless Crowfeather to stare after her.

Third Person – Leafpool

Leafpool's cheeks blazed as she walked briskly away from her room and climbed the stairs to reach the third floor of the manor house. _I can't believe I said that to him_ , she wailed inwardly. _I made myself sound like a freak._ Despite her thoughts, Leafpool felt herself slowing down and she couldn't resist glancing behind her. The way that Crowfeather had looked at her after he was finished with her sketchbook…

Immediately, Leafpool's skin prickled and burned, as if there were thousands of fire ants marching all over her body. Shivering, she quickly made her way to Cinderpelt's door. A small, bitter part of herself had laughed and shook its head when it saw how long Crowfeather had lingered on the first page of her sketchbook. _Of course he stared at Feathertail_ , it had scorned, crossing its arms. _He's obsessed with her._ When he looked through the other pages, Leafpool had felt increasingly uncomfortable as he got close to the sketches she had drawn of him. _And who knew he would pick the sketchbook with the most drawings of him?_

She had planned on picking a book to show him herself, but she quickly found herself trapped in a predicament. Her sketches toward the bottom of the shelf were amateur and crude to her own eyes and the sketchbooks at the top held copious sketches of Crowfeather's face. Toward the middle, there was more of a balance, but they contained mainly sketches of wildlife and plants. There was no "right" book to show Crowfeather without embarrassing herself in the process.

Leafpool stared at Cinderpelt's door before leaning against it in defeat. Why was she even here? She had lied about needing to talk to her mentor—she just had to get out of her room after her embarrassing confession. It would've been too rude and suspicious if she had thrown Crowfeather out and it would've been awkward if the two of them continued to stand there and stare at each other. If she walked out, she needed an excuse or else their next meeting would be even more uncomfortable. Squirrelflight had popped up in her head first, but seeing as how the redhead had a knack for getting tangled in other people's relationships and conflicts, she would undoubtedly get curious and bother Leafpool to no end about it.

 _Did I just call it a relationship?_ Heat rushed to her face and she brought her weight down even more on Cinderpelt's door. Calling it a relationship implied that they were romantically involved…although relationships referred to a lot more than romance. Either way, the thought of being with Crowfeather in that way…the pit of her stomach burned uncomfortably.

Cinderpelt was the first _safe_ person that popped up in her head. The gray-haired woman and Crowfeather were practically strangers, so she could depend on the fact that he wouldn't go out of his way to seek out her mentor. But now that she was here, in front of Cinderpelt's room, she wasn't sure when Crowfeather would actually leave hers. She could've stared down the railing and waited until he started descending the staircase, but there was a large chance that he would've noticed her and that would only make her feel even more uncomfortable. _And I can't just walk downstairs and see him there_ , she thought in frustration. _What would I say? "Oh hey, Crowfeather, turns out Cinderpelt wasn't in her room and…"_

What were the chances of Cinderpelt _not_ being in her room? Or the chances that Crowfeather would see her when he passed the library? Leafpool fell into a crouch, holding her head in her hands as she let out a helpless whimper. She was overreacting. Most definitely overreacting. _Get a hold of yourself, Leafpool_ , she growled angrily, _toughen up. Get your act together. Think of a stupid question to ask Cinderpelt but not too stupid because then she'll think something is wrong. Ask her about upcoming dissections. Ask her about medicine._ Steeling herself, Leafpool stood and let out a puff of air. _Here goes nothing_ , she thought, rapping on Cinderpelt's door.

She waited a few moments before trying again, this time calling out a hesitant, "Cinderpelt?" Pressing her ear to the door, Leafpool frowned when she couldn't hear any snoring or signs of sleep. _Oh for Starreign's sake—_

It seemed like today was one of those rare days when Cinderpelt _wasn't_ in her room


	4. Chapter 4

Third Person – Leafpool

As the week progressed, Crowfeather's parents left to attend a local council meeting and the blue-eyed aristocrat's stay at the Zephyra manor was prolonged for a few days. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, however, were ordered home by Graystripe, who insisted that their studies were at risk of being forgotten. As if to act as a replacement, Dustpelt stopped by and informed the head of Zephyra that he would be staying for a few days. In the meantime, Leafpool caught herself staring at Crowfeather all too many times at the dining table and, unknowingly, was observed by the blue-eyed aristocrat himself.

After reorganizing her schedule to make more room for her family in a last-minute attempt to piece it back together, Leafpool found herself unintentionally spending more time with Crowfeather. Since he was the only visitor to stay behind, he had very little to do while Squirrelflight and Leafpool tended to their everyday activities. Eventually, at one point, the redhead had cornered her sister and pleaded her to make room for Crowfeather when she herself was busy. Squirrelflight, who decided to move her training to the end of the day so she could entertain Crowfeather in the morning, insisted that Leafpool act as company for Crowfeather during her absence. Pressured with being a good host, the brunette accepted.

The first evening they spent together was awkward and tense. Leafpool had tried to catch his interest with different card and board games while he tried to prod her for details on her art. The second night was even worse—the two of them held staring contests for no good reason and even resorted to staring at the ceiling and trying to make shapes out of the wood grain. The third evening, however, was different. Leafpool had brought out her sketchbook—a feat that immediately perked Crowfeather's interest—and told him to act as natural as possible. Of course, after half an hour of contorted and superficial expressions, Leafpool pushed a dramatic romance novel onto him and proceeded to draw his reactions to the text. Needless to say, at the end of the book, the brunette had quite a few amusing pictures added to her collection.

It was safe to say that the days that followed were much more relaxed. There were times where Leafpool would talk about her art and her studies and others where Crowfeather tried to explain politics to her. He had a whole laundry list of complaints—mainly about the house council the twelve heads made—and how very little was being changed _because_ the heads feared change. He explained that the twelve houses were a form of local government in the Empire and though they were not elected by the peasants, they were monitored by the advisory boards of Larkwing the First. But like many systems, the board and their surveys were flawed, so there were times where house leaders could grow corrupt or become a puppet for their dying house.

"It's causing a big problem in our house right now," Crowfeather had admitted to her. "Tallstar's become much more lenient, my father has yet to exercise the power he's inheriting, and the inherited aristocrats are growing more and more agitated. He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a wary expression in his eyes. "If there's anything that politics has taught me," he said slowly, "it's that people are scared of losing power. So scared, that they lose all moral obligations."

Leafpool was stunned by how not only her house—but the house of Ebenwing—was falling to pieces. Although she had heard that her father was a revolutionary leader in the house councils, she knew very little of what he actually did in an attempt to change the system. Later that night, she realized just how much Crowfeather must've trusted her in order to tell her about his crumbling house. For the first time, she recognized just how trusting he was and how little it took for him to open a part of his heart to her. To her embarrassment, however, there was very little she could say to return the favor.

Suddenly it felt as if she was staring at Crowfeather's back again after so many years of chasing after her dream of becoming a doctor. When she believed that she was a step ahead in her life, she still found herself staring at his back. She had come so far with her studies in medicine and botany, but here he was, studying hard to become the next head of Ebenwing. In her eyes, he had accomplished much more than she had over the course of her entire life. Leafpool learned that while Crowfeather was brash and rude, he was painfully honest as well. He always chose to tell the truth, no matter how difficult and scandalous it would be. And to her utter delight, she found herself respecting him and growing to be respected in the process.

Despite the dire circumstances, she couldn't help but feel thankful that she was able to find a friend in Crowfeather while everyone else turned their backs and left.

Third Person – Sandstorm

Dazed green eyes stared out the window as their owners tried to lose herself in a daydream. Life had become painfully difficult for the past few weeks as Firestar became moody, irritable, and seeking refuge in not only the far side of their bed, but in alcohol. At night, he began talking in his sleep, frequently murmuring the name "Spottedleaf" and alternating between the words "please don't go" and "I miss you". Although Sandstorm was convinced that her heart was too numb to hurt any more, she always found herself crying in her study in the middle of the night. As if to add onto her heavy heart, Firestar often glared at her in the early morning, as if accusing her to leave their bed for no reason.

For the first time in her life, Sandstorm felt broken. She remembered the bitter sting of chasing an unrequited love, but that was before she realized that Firestar truly cared for her. Now, the love of her life turned against her and her two daughters were now stuck in the middle of the conflict. When she had broken down crying in Graystripe's arms, Firestar had lashed out in drunken fury, slurring that his friend was a cheater and his wife was nothing more than a common whore. Needless to say, it was understandable why the gray-haired aristocrat had reeled back in the morning and struck his best friend when the redhead failed to remember the tears he had caused the night before.

It would be too cruel to depend on Graystripe in these times. Quickly realizing this, Sandstorm did whatever she could to distance herself from him, murmuring quick nothings about how she was fine and everything was alright. Internally, she felt her walls shattering and her beloved world crumbling underneath her feet. There was no one to turn to. She couldn't endanger her daughters by bringing them into the fray. She couldn't depend on Ashfoot because she was nothing more than a close acquaintance. She couldn't risk having Dustpelt find out, because if he were to ever get wind of what was happening, all hell would break loose. Although she took comfort in her best friend's protective qualities, she couldn't bear to rest on his shoulders while he suffered the loss of his children.

Her mask was cracking and Squirrelflight increased avoidance of her father was proof of that. The younger redhead did whatever she could to ignore Firestar and in turn, she tried to pour as much affection as possible onto Sandstorm. Leafpool, who was all but drowning herself in her research for the past few months, had magically surfaced and hovered over her mother like a doting hen. To Sandstorm's utter embarrassment and annoyance, the familial roles had been switched and suddenly she became the helpless child in need of protection.

Sandstorm let out a ragged breath as she ran her hand through her hair agitatedly. She never expected this to happen. She and Firestar had been married happily for over fourteen years. Although she knew of his love for Spottedleaf, she thought that after over a decade of marriage and bonding, he would see her as his lifelong partner. She thought that the feelings he felt for the deceased aristocrat would fade and eventually be directed to his family. She thought that after all these years she would finally be given the entirety of Firestar's love and affection. But there was no light for her at the end of the tunnel. Instead of handing over the last piece of his heart, he hid it, cloaking it under fake smiles and innocent excuses.

Her worst nightmare—ones that woke her in the middle of the night and drove Firestar insane as he failed to comfort her—was finally coming true. Now she saw that she couldn't wait on him anymore. She knew he loved her dearly, but it still wasn't enough. The fact that he still loved a woman who he knew for less than three months unnerved her. It was a truth that she just couldn't stomach. _Starreign, I have tried and tried and_ tried _,_ she thought dully as she leaned back into her chair. _I've waited, I've cried, I've stood at his door with my heart in my hands—what else can I give?_ She closed her eyes as a fresh wave of tears washed over her eyes. _How much longer can I wait?_

The air around Sandstorm was suddenly filled with the scent of alcohol and a heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders. Steeling herself against the urge to recoil, she turned to see Firestar towering over her with a glassy look in his eyes. In his free hand, he swirled a bottle of wine. "Firestar?" she whispered.

"There y'are, Spottedleaf," he slurred happily, giving her a lopsided smile. Had he given her the same grin on any other occasion, her heart would've melted. But just the mention of that woman's name drove an icy spear through Sandstorm's heart and she felt hollow and numb. Empty. "I missed you," he breathed, pressing his lips to her head. The auburn-haired woman felt herself shake at his touch. _Do not break, do not break, do not break…_ "So many years, Spottedleaf. So many years…" _Don't look at me with those eyes; don't look at me with those eyes…_ He gazed at her forlornly before his face split into a blinding grin. "But now we're together again." He frowned suddenly, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Did y'dye yer hair? Y'know I love y'r natrooal color."

"Firestar, I'm not—" The look in his eyes changed and he recoiled violently, ripping his arm away from her.

"Wha'the hell y'doin', Sandstorm?" He rumbled angrily, his green eyes squinting at her. "Y're not Spottedleaf." He scowled at her. "G'outta here." She felt the last strand of resistance within her snap and she snarled at her husband, effectively shutting him up.

"You're right, Firestar. I'm _not_ Spottedleaf." She rose from her chair and took a menacing step toward him. "And thank Starreign I'm n—" Her next words were quickly cut off with an irritated, obnoxious sigh.

"Well why aren'tcha like her at the least?" He sneered back, his words dripping with malice. "She was sooo kind…n' gentle…n' so forgivin'. Y're loud, bossy…" he glared at her distastefully. "And a _pain_." With his every word, Sandstorm felt another fine crack skitter across the surface of her heart. Behind each fissure, a wave of resentment, anger, and betrayal rose. "Wished sh'didn' die. Wish y'did inste—" He broke off as Sandstorm's fist connected with his face. He stumbled to the ground, smashing the bottle in his hand and scrambling to put his free hand on where she hit him. He blinked blearily at her, flexing his jaw wearily. "I—what? Sandstorm? What's going on here?" _That's just like you, Firestar_ , she thought bitterly. _Always knowing what to say. Always sobering up just as the damage is done._ She glared down at him. _Well not today._

"Sandstorm?" Confusion, laced with pain, crossed his face. A hard look settled in his eyes. "Why did you hit me?"

"It's always about you, isn't it?" She whispered darkly at him. "What did _I_ do to little-ol'- _you_. It's never 'what did I say' or 'what did I do'. No, it's always 'what did _you_ say' and 'what did _you_ do'." Staring down at her husband, she realized that she'd never been so humiliated in her life. "I'm _sick_ of playing your Spottedleaf and I am _sick_ for always being second best. You broke me far too many times, Firestar, _and I am done._ "

"Broke?" he spluttered. "Playing 'my' Spottedleaf?" He gazed helplessly at her. "When were you ever second best?" If it was even possible, her heart broke for a second time.

"Always. I was _always_ and _still am_ second best." A fresh wave of tears trailed down her cheeks. "It was always her. It was always her."

"No, it was always you," Firestar protested, trying to sit up. "Sandstorm, please."

"I'm leaving, Firestar." Her voice quavered and she cursed herself inwardly at the hope in his eyes. "I'm done." Walking briskly past him, she ignored his protests and shut the door to her study. Grabbing a chair from the side, she barred the door and kicked it once, for good measure. "Good _bye_." She raced into her closet, stuffing whatever clothes she could grab into a bag before slamming the door to the master bedroom behind her.

"Mama!" Squirrelflight stood at the bottom of the staircase, flanked by Crowfeather and Leafpool. Concern was etched across all three faces as they stared back at Sandstorm. "What happened?" Her voice grew more urgent. "Why are you _crying_?"

"I'm leaving," she announced as steadily as she could. "I'm leaving and I'm not coming back." Her voice broke off into a sob as she marched past her daughters and called for a carriage.

Third Person - Squirrelflight

Squirrelflight glanced at Leafpool and Crowfeather before rushing after her mother. "Squirrelflight!" She heard her sister cry out in shock as she pushed through the manor doors. Outside, her mother paced while the stablemen tried to set up the carriage as soon as possible. The maids, who had been sweeping the front of the manor, whispered worriedly to each other as they stared at their crying mistress.

"Mama." Squirrelflight raced to her mother's side and took the older woman's hands. "I'm going with you." A conflicted look crossed Sandstorm's face and she opened her mouth to protest.

"Squirrelfli—"

"Please, mama. Do this for me." Sandstorm blinked at her daughter blankly, as if suddenly seeing who was standing before her.

"Where did I go wrong?" The auburn-haired aristocrat whispered as she gazed at her daughter. Squirrelflight furrowed her eyebrows, but her mother kept talking. "When did I stop looking at you?" Tears filled her green eyes again. "How did you grow up without me noticing?"

"Mama." Squirrelflight took her mother's face in her hands and rested their foreheads together. "I want you to get into the carriage and wait for me, okay? I'll be out in a minute—I just need to talk to Leafpool for a second. When we're in the carriage, we'll talk, okay? Calm down; I'll be there in a minute." She beckoned the chirping maids over and they hurriedly helped their mistress into the car. Squirrelflight gave her mother one last reassuring look before rushing back to the manor.

"Remember what I told you, Leafa," the redhead whispered as her sister met her by the door. "Make sure papa gets all straightened out. If worst comes to worst, you pack up your things—whatever you can carry on a short notice—and come to us. If Graystripe or Dustpelt asks, tell them where we are. Otherwise, _don't say a word to anyone_."

"Got it," Leafpool breathed, urgently pressing their foreheads together. The two of them stayed like that for a few seconds, eyes closed as they tried to memorize each other's presence. Leafpool's amber eyes opened after what felt like eternity and met Squirrelflight's green gaze. "Take care of her, Squirrelflight." Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "And take care of yourself."

"We'll do the best we can." Fear flashed through the redhead's eyes. "In the meantime—stall!" She pulled away from her sister, all but leaping into the carriage and yelling at the groom to start the carriage. Squirrelflight squeezed her mother's hands and shifted until she was comfortable.

"What are you going to do for clothes?" Sandstorm asked dazedly.

"I'm sure Tawnypelt wouldn't mind sharing," the redhead replied impatiently.

A wave of guilt washed over Sandstorm's eyes. "I'm a horrible mother," she croaked.

At her mother's words, Squirrelflight felt something inside of her break. "No, mama," she whispered, wrapping her arms around the shaking woman. "You're perfect."

Third Person – Leafpool

 _Starreign protect them_ , Leafpool thought helplessly as she watched the carriage roll away. The air filled with the sound of footsteps and she turned to see Dustpelt and Graystripe rushing over to meet her. "What happened?" The gray-haired aristocrat demanded.

"Mother and Squirrelflight left for Herobexy."

" _Why?_ " Dustpelt looked back and forth between Leafpool's somber eyes and the stricken expression on Graystripe's face. "Why would they ever go—" The man broke off abruptly, a dark gleam in his eye. "That son of a bitch."

"Language!" Graystripe hissed, snapping out of his stupor.

"Like that's a priority right now," Dustpelt snorted. "Where is he?" His amber eyes raked over Leafpool and Graystripe, who glanced questioningly at one another. Letting out a frustrated cry, the aristocrat stalked back into the manor, where Crowfeather shot Leafpool a confused look. When Firestar didn't appear, Dustpelt turned his temper onto the servants. " _Where is he?_ " he roared, sending a few maids scrambling for where to hide.

" _You watch your mouth!_ " Leafpool snapped, leaping in front of him. Her blood boiled at the mistreatment of the people who practically raised her. The male aristocrat turned his molten eyes on her and for several long moments, amber burned into amber. In the silence, she felt her anger starting to subside. "Nobody will tell you anything if you yell at them," she told him coldly. "Our staff is loyal, dedicated, and defensive. If you want to know _anything_ , the last thing you should do is turn your anger onto _them_." The staring contest continued for a few more minutes as Dustpelt refused to lower the intensity of his gaze.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a door being slammed open and Firestar rushed out on the railing, looking around frantically. "Where is she?" he demanded, staring down at the group of aristocrats. "Where did Sandstorm go?" Leafpool saw something snap inside of Dustpelt at the woman's name and he flew up the flight of stairs, ignoring Graystripe's alarmed cry.

"You son of a bitch!" The brown-haired aristocrat fisted his hands in Firestar's shirt. "I can't believe you. All this time, I thought you were a good guy." His amber eyes flashed angrily as he brought his face close to the redhead's. "I gave her to you _and you broke her_." Leafpool heard Graystripe's breath catch in his throat before the gray-haired aristocrat raced up the stairs. Firestar stared blankly at Dustpelt, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Dustpelt reeled back and punched him.

"Dustpelt!" Graystripe's voice rose above the maids' screams as he grabbed the brunet around the waist and tried to tug him away from Firestar. Although the gray-haired aristocrat was much bulkier than the brunet, he had a difficult time separating him from the redhead. "A little help here?" he cried out, trying to stop Dustpelt from thrashing. Immediately, three butlers flew to his side, helping him pull the two tussling men apart. When they were finally separated, Firestar had a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye. Dustpelt, on the other hand, had a magnificent bruise forming on his cheek.

It was in these moments that Leafpool hated herself the most. She could never actually raise her hand against anyone. Instead, she stood there and stared as Graystripe dragged Dustpelt down the stairs. He paused by her and gave her a tight smile. "I'm taking this guy home. It'll do him some good," he grumbled, shooting the battered brunet a half-hearted glare. He glanced at Crowfeather, who had somehow sidled up next to Leafpool during the frenzy. She gazed dazedly at him—how did he get so close to her without startling her? Either way, his warmth was comforting and she wanted nothing more than to sink into him. At this point, any warm body would do for comfort. "Do you want a ride home? I might as well drop you off at Ebenwing."

"I'll stay here, if that's fine with you," Crowfeather replied, earning a shocked look from Leafpool. "My parents will expect me to be here and I don't mind staying for a while longer."

"Are you sure? It won't be too much trouble to bring you back." _And away from all this madness_ , Leafpool finished Graystripe's words dully.

"No, I'm sure. Thank you for the offer." The gray-haired aristocrat eyed him warily, but nodded before dragging Dustpelt behind him. Once two of them were out of sight, Leafpool raced over to where her father was, dazed and bloodied. There were two butlers hovering over him, but neither seemed sure of what to do.

"Can you find Cinderpelt?" She called out to no one in particular as he knelt above her father. She took his face gingerly in her hands, turning it from side to side to survey the damage.

"Leafpool?" He slurred uncertainly, blinking at her with bleary eyes.

"It's me," she reassured him. "Can someone bring me some cotton balls and some alcohol?" She hesitated before asking, "Some ice would be nice too." Wordlessly, the servants of her manor handed her the items she requested and she began to tend to her father's wounds, dabbing at his cuts.

"Young mistress…" She looked up to see one of the head butlers standing by her father's head. "We are low on wine. Should we place an order for more?" _Oh_ , she thought blankly as she stared up at the elder man. _If we don't have wine, then father wouldn't be able to get drunk in his own home. But at the same time…what will we do for guests?_

"Request a few bottles but ask your provider to store it for you in the meantime." Crowfeather's voice cut through her haze and he headed down the staircase, Cinderpelt limping as fast as she could after him. He glanced at Leafpool and nodded. "That'll keep Firestar from getting more alcohol into his system and make sure that you're stocked for guests." When the head butler glanced in Leafpool's direction for confirmation, she nodded dazedly, deciding that at this point in time, Crowfeather knew what was best. Cinderpelt pushed past the blue-eyed aristocrat and knelt down by Firestar's head.

"Great Starreign," she murmured disapprovingly. "What have you done to yourself, Firestar?" The redhead, who had dozed under the gentle ministrations of his daughter and the soothing coldness of the ice on his rapidly-swelling eye, moaned softly at her words. The gray-haired woman shook her head sadly and gave Leafpool a small smile. "I'll take care of your father from here," she informed her. "Get some rest, Leafpool. Ask the chef for some milk with honey."

Leafpool gave her mentor a bitter smile. "I think all of us need some milk with honey," she replied, brushing off her knees. "I'll send some up for you in a bit." Cinderpelt chuckled and motioned for two butlers to help her carry Firestar into his bedroom. Leafpool watched the three of them carry him up the stairs and disappear from sight.

"Young mistress." A servant stepped forward, his head cocked slightly to the side. "Would you like me to prepare your beverages?"

"Yes, please." She smiled tiredly at him. "Thank you, Mistpelt." He bowed to her before heading off in the direction of the kitchen and Leafpool turned to the rest of the staff. "Everyone," she said, raising her voice so she could be heard. "I apologize for the mess we have caused. Please feel free to take the night off and relax. I will ask the chef to prepare milk and honey for everyone, so please join me in the dining room when the beverages are ready." One of the maids stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Leafpool's head.

"Thank you, Leafpool," she whispered softly. "You've saved us all."

Third Person – Crowfeather

Crowfeather marveled at how close Leafpool seemed to be with the servants of her manor. Her words were kind and respectful, but their gestures were even more so. All of them gazed at the brunette with fondness and loyalty—a feat that was very unusual in his own house. All of the servants at his manor were frivolous, bitter, and gossipers. There was very little to hide from prying eyes, and Crowfeather decided that if he were to ever become head of the house, he would do something to change the relationship between aristocrats and their servants.

Her earlier outburst with Dustpelt had startled him. He hadn't expected her to leap in front of the dark-haired aristocrat like that and raise her voice so shrilly. In the time that he had grown closer to Leafpool, he had learned just how much of a pacifist she was. She disliked confrontations and often was the first to withdraw from a controversial argument. She always had a kind word to say and merely kept her jaw set and stiff whenever there was a ruder comment she wanted to make. Judging by the shocked expressions on the faces around him, that outburst was most likely the first time that Leafpool had lost her temper. While the Leafpool that had threatened him five years before was cold and intimidating, this Leafpool was fiery, proud, and defensive. She was finally living up to her house's name—strong and powerful like flame, but warm and protective like a hearth.

His interest in her was unnerving. He spent nights pacing the floors of the guest bedroom, wondering how exactly he was going to ask for Feathertail's hand in marriage before she was stolen away by another suitor. He spent hours daydreaming about what it would be like to court Feathertail and spend a day holding her hand. All the time he spent with Feathertail was a treasure he held close to his heart, but the fleeting moments he shared with Leafpool burned the brightest in the back of his mind. They lingered like the smoke that curled around an extinguished candle—heavy, thick, and hypnotic. His chest grew tight at the thought of her small chuckles, her shy smiles, her blazing eyes, her silky voice—all of these drove deep into his mind, deeper than Feathertail's ever did.

Before he realized it, Crowfeather yearned to care for Leafpool. She was fragile yet powerful in a way that he couldn't ignore. So when the main hallway cleared of servants and Leafpool's calm mask slipped, he wasn't surprised to feel his arms slip around her and pull her into his chest. She had stiffened at the contact, but quickly relaxed into him, her own arms looping around his waist. He cooed absentmindedly into her ear, gently guiding her to the den. When they reached the room, he settled her down on one of the couches, allowing her to wrap her arms around him and melt into his embrace. Before long, they were informed by a flushed and stammering servant that the beverages were ready and everyone was waiting for the two aristocrats to make their presence in the dining room.

Everything was a blur after that—he faintly remembered walking Leafpool to her room and giving her one last hug before dragging himself to the guest bedroom he resided it. There, in the confines of a dark room, he felt his mind unwind and sort through the events of the day. He could still smell Leafpool's scent lingering on him, a thick, fragrant blend of vanilla and lavender. He could still feel her in his arms, soft and slender, emanating a warmth that made him feel boneless. He could still feel her breath puffing against his collarbone, each breath varying in length as she tried to hold her tears in.

He wondered what her tears tasted like. He wondered how it would feel to have her in his arms, crying against him. He wondered how he would feel as he stroked her back, soothing her as she spilled her heart out to him. For the first time in his life, he wondered what life would be like if it were Leafpool standing at his side. Little did he know, just a few rooms away, the object of his thoughts was thinking about the same thing.

Third Person – Leafpool

 _She found herself sitting at the pebbly riverbank again, listening to the waters lap against the sides of the pool. Most of the stars seemed to be absent tonight, Leafpool noted, as she gazed up at the sky. It was most likely the due to the brightness of the moon's light, but a few stars shone diligently against their dark surroundings, as if trying to carve their mark into the sky. Her dark tail tapped gently against the pebbles underneath her in a rhythmic yet restless beat. She was waiting for someone here, and she wasn't about to leave without some answers._

 _"Leafpool!" The brown she-cat turned to see a familiar tortoiseshell leap out of the surrounding grass, a purr rising from her throat._

 _"You know why I'm here, Spottedleaf," Leafpool replied coldly, rising to her paws. The medicine cat started at the hostile look in the brown she-cat's eyes and gazed worriedly at the younger cat. A hard look set in Spottedleaf's amber eyes and her whiskered twitched decisively._

 _"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate."_

 _"Give my father back," Leafpool snarled, stalking forward. "Stop ripping my family apart. For Starreign's sake—if you're convinced that you were never meant to fall in love, why are you still clinging onto my father like a dying shadow?"_

 _"You can't choose who you love," Spottedleaf objected, "or when to stop."_

 _"That's true," the brown-she cat growled, "but you can stop visiting him."_

 _"Even if I stop visiting him, the damage is done. You can't change a person's heart."_

 _"But there is a way to tell it it's wrong," Leafpool shot back. "Or are you convinced that my father will come to you after he dies?"_

 _"Leafpool, you know I would never want that!"_

 _"Don't you start," Leafpool spat. "You will never be who Sandstorm is—you will never take her place in his heart. She's done so much more for him than you ever could." At her words, the tortoiseshell cat bristled. "Stop acting as if you know what's best for my family!"_

 _"I'm doing what's best for_ Firestar _," Spottedleaf screeched. "I've always done what's best for him and I will continue to do so!"_

 _"And you think making him care for someone who isn't even there will help him?"_

 _"I stand for more than you think I do!" Gazing at Spottedleaf, Leafpool realized just exactly what the medicine cat was trying to achieve._

 _"You're right, Spottedleaf. You're not just a woman who's breaking my family apart. You're a poison. You're trying to kill all of us." Leafpool took a menacing step forward, forcing the tortoiseshell back. "You're trying to break whatever feelings I could possibly have for_ anyone. _" Leafpool gazed bitterly at the she-cat. "You want me to follow in your footsteps. You want me to live the life you had to lead. Why?" She cocked her head to the side before answering her own question. "Because you're_ sick of being alone _."_

 _"You don't know anything," Spottedleaf hissed, leaping in front of Leafpool. The brown she-cat flinched, but held her ground. "I know what's best and I'm doing it for both of you. I'm not lonely!" The two of them glared at each other, eyes taunting the other to attack first. Whoever gives in first would be the one at fault. The grass rustled behind Spottedleaf and Leafpool unwillingly tore her eyes away from the medicine to see two felines step into the clearing. Although the brown-she cat was distracted, the tortoiseshell did nothing to attack her. "What do you want, Yellowfang?" The medicine cat spat angrily. "And you, Bluestar?"_

 _"_ Enough _." Spottedleaf flinched under the intensity of the blue she-cat's gaze. Casting a wary glance at the medicine cat, the blue-eyed cat stepped forward. "You are dismissed, Spottedleaf." The tortoiseshell cat opened her mouth to object, but Bluestar turned her gaze on her menacingly. "_ Now. _" Snapping her jaws shut, Spottedleaf slunk away, throwing glares at Leafpool as she disappeared into the tall, long grass. Once the tortoiseshell was out of sight, the blue she-cat relaxed and addressed the brown she-cat. "Leafpool, I was a close friend of your father's. My name is Bluestar." The amber-eyed cat bowed her head respectfully in greeting. "This is Yellowfang—she was Cinderpelt's former mentor and a former advisor of your father's."_

 _"Enough with the introductions, Bluestar," Yellowfang rasped. "Leafpool, do not fear for your family. You will be reunited very soon."_

 _"Perhaps much sooner than you think," Bluestar added, just as another voice filled the clearing._

"Leafpool, where are you? Leafpool!"

 _"Wake up, quickly!" The blue-eyed she-cat told her._

 _"How do I do that?" Leafpool yelped, looking for an exit. When she turned back to the two she-cats for help, she realized that both of them had disappeared and the world around her was disintegrating. "Holy Starreign!"_

"Leafpool!" The door was thrown open and Graystripe burst into her room, panting heavily. The brunette leapt of bed, startled and unsteady as she tried to gather her bearings. Once she was in control of her body again, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and raced to his side.

"What happened? Are you okay?" She cupped his face in her hands worriedly. _"Perhaps your family will be reunited much sooner than you think,"_ Bluestar's words echoed through her head. "Graystripe!"

"Sandstorm—Squirrely," the gray-haired aristocrat wheezed. "Accident—road—" He shook his head dazedly, swallowing rapidly. "Blood—" Leafpool's blood chilled and she stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. The sound of footsteps filled the air and she looked up just in time to see Firestar and Crowfeather rush into her room, Cinderpelt hot on their heels.

"Graystripe? Leafpool?" Her father asked as he rushed to her side. He fell to his knees and caught her just as her legs gave out. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks, his green eyes filled with concern and fear. Leafpool nearly burst into tears on the spot—finally, _finally_ , her father was beginning to look like himself again. "What happened? Are you alright?" He demanded.

"Papa—" Leafpool's breath caught in her throat at the startled expression in his eyes. " _Papa—!_ " She buried her head into his shoulder, letting out a dry sob. "Squirrelflight—mother—oh Starreign!"

"Graystripe? What in Starreign's name is going on?"

"Sandstorm and Squirrelflight were an in accident at the edge of Herobexy manor." The gray-haired aristocrat's breath hitched awkwardly in his throat. He had recovered significantly, but was still breathless from running. "I came back as soon as I could." Firestar's arms tightened significantly around Leafpool and he pressed his cheek urgently against the side of her head. She could hear him muttering something under his breath, low enough that she couldn't understand him, even at a close proximity.

"Tell the servants to get me my horse," he said suddenly, rising to his feet. When nobody moved, he shifted Leafpool his arms and glared at them. "Well?" he growled. "Are we going to stay here and stare the night away?" The brunette heard the sound of footsteps fill the air as a presence quickly left the room. Firestar released her and quickly led her out of the room, ducking into his bedroom and returning with two riding cloaks in his hands. He threw one around Leafpool's shoulders and quickly fastened his own. "We're going to them," he said to Graystripe, who was watching them by the staircase. Relief glowed in his amber eyes.

"You're finally back," the gray-haired aristocrat breathed. Firestar gave him a quick smile and grabbed Leafpool around the waist.

"I finally remembered what was important," he said before sliding down the railing with his daughter in his arms. "Come on!" He tugged on Leafpool's arm as they ran out of the manor. "Is Varnish ready?"

"Yes sir!" Leafpool was quickly boosted on a chestnut stallion's back as her father swung up behind her. Two arms circled around her and grabbed the reigns as a warm, solid chest pressed into her back.

"Run like the _wind_ , Varnish," Firestar breathed before snapping the reigns. "Hiyah!" The stallion took off; jolting Leafpool into her father as he quickly fell into a gallop. Leafpool's heart ached for the horse underneath her—this ride would most likely be his last. It was suicidal to make a horse run for hours without a break—especially on a trip that took a carriage at least four hours to complete. _This is the last time he'll ever ride with my father_ , she thought as she gazed up at Firestar. The misty look in his eyes informed her that he was very well aware that this run would be the one to kill his beloved steed. "Hiyah!"

Third Person – Firestar

He had been dreaming this entire time. Every time he saw pain flicker through Sandstorm's eyes, he had thought, _there's always tomorrow._ He would apologize for his wrongdoings tomorrow. That was what he thought of every night, when he burrowed in his blankets and realized just how much he had hurt her. He stayed on the edge of their bed out of guilt—he couldn't imagine why Sandstorm would even want to sleep next to him after what he had done. He avoided her in the mornings, but when it hurt too much to bear, he locked himself in his study and drank himself silly. _If I lock up my feelings_ , he thought, _if I lock these moments away, then there's no way that she would ever be hurt_.

How very wrong he had been.

While Spottedleaf plagued his dreams with sweet words, tender glances, and the sinfully seductive _"we can never be"_ , he found himself longing for Sandstorm's smoldering gaze, her burning touch, and the calm fulfillment that came in her arms. He missed how silky her auburn hair was as it slipped through his fingers; he missed the soft chuckles she would make whenever he pressed kisses to her jaw. He missed every single bit of his wife and he was the very reason she left him.

He had been careless and bitter the day his wife left. For a split second, he wondered how life would've been like had Spottedleaf never died. The two of them would've been happily married, perhaps with a few children along the way, and a fairly supportive group of friends. They would rarely have arguments and Spottedleaf would fulfill the role of the perfect wife—kind, gentle, soothing. She would ease his tensions with a single touch and her smile would be just enough to take the edge off of politics and reality. For a second, he saw himself with Spottedleaf and turned his bitterness of her death onto Sandstorm. When she had slapped him, Firestar felt reality sinking in again and caught a brief glance of what he had thrown away for a frivolous daydream.

Sandstorm was strong, bold, and loyal. She was the flame to his heart—fierce and overwhelming like a roaring fire, but protective and soothing like the hearth. She was far from the perfect wife, with her quick temper and her brash honesty, but these were all qualities that were highly attractive in an equal. Even at a young age, Sandstorm had refused to be seen as anything less. When he was younger and had just been recognized for becoming an aristocrat, she had been hostile, haughty, and rude. But as time went on, her words grew kinder and her smiles warmer.

Before long, he had realized why she had treated him so horribly at first. Being a free spirit, she was terrified of the idea of being controlled by a male. In the peasantry ranks, it was not uncommon for communities to be patriarchal. Men often took advantage of their wives and their sisters—ordering them around and expecting complete obedience. Sandstorm was most likely unsettled by the thought of being so close to someone who could threaten her way of living and challenge her refusal to be submissive. Before long, he had felt his heart tug in her direction, unknowingly warmed by her awkward acts of kindness and undying support.

It had been a shock to him when she kissed him on the night of his nineteenth birthday. Her cheeks had been flushed from the sweet, disarming wine and her eyes glittered uneasily at him as she pulled back. Murmuring a small apology, she fled, more than aware of the eyes that chased after her. It was only until the next morning that Firestar realized that he loved her. The next few days were spent hanging around Herobexy manor, trying to catch her alone and propose a time for courtship. She had evaded him for many days before her pride couldn't allow her to flee anymore. The one thing that he didn't expect, however, was for her to start crying at his profession of love. She loved him. _She loved him_.

 _Sandstorm._ His heart longed for her and the blood in his veins sang the closer he got to Herobexy manor. He could feel Varnish heaving from underneath him, the horse pushing on despite the pain his body must've been in. Being forced to run at full speed along a long road—his legs were most likely on the verge of snapping off. Either way, his loyal, trustworthy steed pushed on, his valiant heart rising up to meet his master. _Thank you, Varnish_ , he thought, his hands tightening on the reigns. _Thank you for letting me piece my family back together._

It had been a shock when Leafpool had called him "papa". It was always Squirrelflight's term for him while the brunette always resided with the more formal "father". Leafpool was frightfully observant and selfless as she allowed her sister to monopolize of his time. There were many days where he would be holding a rambunctious Squirrelflight in his arms and wonder what it would be like if it was Leafpool who was standing by him. It hurt to see that the brunette was less willing to spend time with him, but knowing her, it was most likely because she believed Squirrelflight was his favorite.

Was it possible to play favorites between his two daughters? They were so drastically different that it was difficult for him to choose a favorite. Both had their good and bad qualities. Both were caring, supportive, and loving. Both of them were _his daughters_. If asked which he loved more, he would reply that he loved them both. And it was true. Regardless of how much time he spent with either one, he loved them equally. _I've been stupid_ , he thought. _I've been clinging onto Spottedleaf for so long. I've been so blind to my family. To my daughters._ His heart ached. _My wife._

As if he understood his owner's feelings, Varnish pushed himself harder, his huffs increasing in volume as he raced across the road. Firestar felt his eyes grow damp as he felt his stallion's muscles twitch and bunch underneath him. _Thank you, old friend._ How long has it been? Five—seven years? _May you rest peacefully in Starreign._

Third Person – Leafpool

The second that she and her father leapt off of Varnish, the chestnut stallion collapsed. Firestar let out an anguished cry and knelt down by his faithful horse, but quickly stepped aside when several stablemen ran toward them. He watched helplessly as Varnish was prodded all over and a few more stablemen rushed over with a cart. After the horse was settled on the cart, he was quickly wheeled away to the stables, where the Herobexy vet would look over him. Leafpool felt a bitter lump grow in her throat as she watched her father stare after his horse, but she reached out to him and tugged him back to reality.

His startled green eyes turned on her before a solemn look crossed his face. He nodded to her before the two of them walked briskly through the manor doors and stepped into the main hallway. Leafpool surveyed her surroundings uneasily—because the house of Herobexy had many more families residing in it, their manor was enormous. According to what Tawnypelt told her in one of their earlier conversations, there were at least five more mansions built to house all the members. While her home was subtly elegant and welcoming, Herobexy seemed to be more extravagant and cold. No wonder Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt were always so willing to come over.

Firestar caught the first servant that walked by and smiled briefly at him. "Excuse me; I'm looking for a woman named Sandstorm. Do you know where she is?"

"She's not here, bastard." Both Zephyra aristocrats turned their heads to see Dustpelt glaring down at them from the second floor. "What makes you think you're welcome here?"

"Where is my wife, Dustpelt?" Firestar's voice was icy when he addressed the brunet. Leafpool shivered at the unfamiliar tone of his voice. "You tell me now, or I'll go door to door until I find her." His eyes grew hard as he stared at the Herobexy aristocrat. "I have little patience for your games right now," he growled after a few silent minutes. " _Tell me_ or I will rip this manor apart."

"Go ahead," Dustpelt shot back. "There're five more mansions beside this one and at least ten shelters set up in the woods." Firestar's green eyes narrowed into slits and he snarled at the brunet. Leafpool felt her father tense next to her and every fiber in her body screamed at her to restrain him.

"I'll take you there." Brambleclaw appeared at Dustpelt's side and ignored the glower the brunet gave him. "We don't need a political war right now, Dustpelt," the younger aristocrat warned. Turning to the Zephyra aristocrats, he smiled apologetically to them. "She's upstairs. Come on." Dustpelt shot Firestar one last venomous glare before stalking off, grumbling angrily under his breath. Leafpool shared a look with Brambleclaw as she and her father climbed up the stairs to meet him. She glanced back at her father before speeding up to match the brunet's pace.

"What happened?" She whispered urgently. "Are they okay?"

"Squirrelflight's in shock, but for the most part, she's okay," Brambleclaw murmured softly. "She got away with a few scrapes and bruises, but I'm a little more concerned with her left arm. Our physician's trying to determine whether it's broken, fractured, or sprained."

"And my wife?" Firestar's voice cut into the conversation and both teenagers glanced back at him in surprise.

"I don't know," Brambleclaw admitted. "One side of her head was completely covered in blood when Graystripe and Dustpelt brought her in. Our physician said that she was in shock, but Ferncloud told me that head wounds tend to bleed heavily, so it just looks worse than it really is." He paused before adding, "Our other doctor was stitching her up when you two arrived. Sandstorm's probably getting over the anesthetics."

"Your horses stumbled on a few loose stones at the edge of the road." Leafpool looked up to see Dustpelt regarding them coolly at the top of the third floor. "The horses were going too fast and they slid into a ditch. One of them is critical condition right now, but the other one seems to be unharmed." The brunet pushed away from the wall and crossed his arms. "The carriage tipped over and Squirrelflight did her best to break her mother's fall. She ended up fracturing her left wrist, so she'll be out of commission for a while." He ignored Leafpool's glare at the reference to battle. "Sandstorm was on the side that hit the ground first. She knocked her head against the side of the coach and blacked out. Your coachman snapped his arm, but managed to help Squirrelflight staunch the bleeding.

"That's when Graystripe and I showed up. Thankfully, we were close enough that we could transfer Squirrelflight and Sandstorm into our carriage and get her to the manor doctors within a few minutes. We had to send a few stablemen back for the horses." Brambleclaw nodded up to where Dustpelt was and the two Zephyra aristocrats followed him warily.

The brunet glared angrily at Firestar as the redhead neared. "Look here, Firestar," he growled lowly. "I'm willing to forgive you as long as Sandstorm does. But I'm warning you—don't wallow who's already dead. Take care of those who are still around you because you never know how much longer they'll be able to stay with you. Don't take _anyone_ for granted."

Leafpool felt a wave of sympathy wash over her as she gazed at Dustpelt. Ten years ago, he and Ferncloud lost two of their triplets to a particularly nasty virus. The brunet was mourning to this day and often did whatever he could to shield his remaining child from the rest of the world. _He only has Birchfall now,_ Leafpool thought. Of course, his wife had never really gotten over the loss of her two children. From what her mother had told her, the two Herobexy aristocrats were extremely uncertain of whether they wanted to have more children or not.

"Thank you." Firestar bowed his head to Dustpelt when they stopped by an open door. Ferncloud poked her head out and relaxed significantly when she saw Leafpool and Firestar standing there.

"She's awake," the woman whispered. "Do you want me to—"

Firestar pressed a finger to his lips and a relieved smile crossed Ferncloud's face. She nodded vigorously and stepped out of the room. "Come with me," she hissed to Dustpelt, Brambleclaw, and Leafpool as she tugged them away from the room. "I'll take you to where Squirrelflight is." She paused as she gazed at Leafpool and gave the brunet a reassuring smile. "Everything is going to be fine now," she murmured softly. "Your father is a good man. He stumbles and falls, but he always gets back on his feet. Your mother is safe with him."

Leafpool nodded to the aristocrat before glancing over her shoulder at her father. He gave her one last smile before slipping into the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Third Person – Firestar

A wave of fear washed over him as he watched his daughter being led further down the hallway. She was undoubtedly going to meet her sister, but there was something unnerving about Ferncloud's stare as she slid out of the room. _Fix her_. That had been what her eyes had been saying. _Fix Sandstorm._ Now that he was here, standing a few feet away from his wife, he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he going to beg her to come back to him? Tell her that he would die for her? Reiterate his wedding vows? Would she even take him back?

Taking a deep breath, he looked up to see Leafpool giving him a worried glance. He gave her a small smile to reassure the both of them before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Sandstorm looked up at the slight disturbance in the room and her eyes narrowed angrily when saw him. "Go away, Firestar," she hissed. He stiffened, taking in the full extent of her wounds. _I caused this_ , he thought helplessly as his eyes ran over the bandage on the side of her face, the scrapes on her arms, and the bruise that decorated her cheek.

As he gazed at her, he thought he saw her eyes soften for a second before turning hard again. Firestar opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Sandstorm's gaze grew increasingly wary as he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, trying to find something to say but having difficulty controlling his voice. He felt the telltale signs of tears as his chest tightened and his vision began to blur as he stood there under her scrutiny. Quickly turning away, he choked out an "I'm sorry" before leaving. A hand wrapped around his wrist just as he stepped outside and dragged him back in, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sandstorm glared at him, pressing him up against the door. She winced, hand coming up to cup her bandaged temple. When he reached out for her, she gave him another wary look and his hand dropped immediately. "What do you want?" She asked. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "What do you have to say?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I can't think of anything to say."

"And why is that?" She was expecting an explanation. Of course—after all he had done, he very well owed her one. _Because I don't know if there's anything I can say to make you come back to me._ His throat tightened up and he looked down, willing the tears away as they threatened to peek over the edge of his eyes. _I don't love Spottedleaf? I don't want anyone but you? She doesn't deserve words like that._ His throat closed up completely and he turned his head away as the first tear slid onto his cheek. _She doesn't deserve someone like me._ His mind ran off that tangent and suddenly he began imagining how life would've been if she had reciprocated Dustpelt's feelings.

 _He's always resented me because she loved me_ , he thought, turning to face the door as another tear slid down the other cheek. _He resented me because he loved her first and I loved her second._ The tensions between the two of them had subsided slightly when Dustpelt found love in Ferncloud, but it was never really gone. There was always some bitterness standing between them, and it all had to do with love.

Roughened fingertips touched his face gently and he flinched as if they had burned him. His eyes flew open and he stared at Sandstorm as she wiped a tear away with her thumb. "Does it have to be something that's said?" There was still a touch of wariness in her eyes, but there was also a light of hope and longing glowing from deep within. She stepped closer to him hesitantly, wiping the tear from the other cheek. "Can you…" her green eyes flickered shyly up to meet his. "Show me?"

His resistance snapped at her words. He fell into her, sobbing, as her arms came around him reassuringly. His hung limply at his own sides, terrified that she would object if he were to embrace her. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry." He repeated this like a mantra, drowning himself in her scent and her warmth. He was faintly aware of her hands running up and down his sides, pressing into the small of his back and stroking his face as he cried. When his tears subsided, he was numb and defeated. _She's never coming back to someone like me_ , he decided. _I can't let her._ He began to pull himself from her arms, but he started when she kept him locked in her embrace.

"Do you love me, Firestar?" She asked him softly, pressing her forehead against his.

"I—" _don't deserve you._

"Do you love _me_?" She repeated herself.

"Yes." When she smiled at him, he felt the world fit together again. "Please come home." He took a shuddering breath. "Please come back to me."

Third Person – Sandstorm

She wasn't ready to see him just yet. It had only been about ten hours since she left. When Ferncloud left the room, she knew it was only a matter of time before she saw his face again. She steeled her nerves and looked up just as he slipped in. _He looks so pale_ , she thought forlornly before swatting herself inwardly for being so concerned. _This man broke you, Sandstorm_ , she reminded herself irritably. _Don't forgive him so easily! Don't care for him so easily!_ Despite her protests, a small voice inside of her fretted over him, convinced that she needed to care for him.

"Go away, Firestar." Good. The words came out harsh, bitter—just the way she wanted them to. His face twisted in pain, but it wasn't her eyes that he was looking at. No, his gaze traveled all over her body, taking in the bandages and angry red scrapes on her arms. A part of her wanted to hide under the blankets and hide her wounded body from him. _I don't want think I'm not beautiful anymore_. She shook her head angrily at the thought. _I don't him to see me anymore. I don't want him to think of me anymore._ When his eyes finally met hers again, she saw just how broken he was—fragile, lost, and devastated.

 _You broke him, Sandstorm_ , a voice said quietly in her head.

 _No, he broke_ me, she hissed back. _I'm the broken one._ Firestar gazed at her for a few more moments before turned away with a broken, "I'm sorry." Sandstorm could hear the tears, thick and heavy in his voice as he rushed to leave the room. _No, this wasn't how it's supposed to be_ , she thought as she stared after him. _You were supposed to ask me to come back…you were supposed to stay…_ She couldn't let him leave like this. She leapt out of her bed in a flash, grabbing Firestar roughly by the wrist and dragging him back into the room. When she slammed him into the door, her temple throbbed painfully and she pressed a hand to it immediately.

He reached out for her then, concern filling his eyes, but he quickly withdrew at her scowl. "What do you want, Firestar?" Good, her voice was still strong. _You can do this, Sandstorm. Figure out what the man wants and then throw him out. It's as simple as that._ "What do you have to say?" _Shoot_. The words came out wrong. She had meant to ask him what he wanted to say. Now it sounded like she expected him to beg her to come back. _You stupid, prideful woman_ , she thought bitterly. _This is why he chose Spottedleaf over you._

"I don't know." Sandstorm looked up in shock as Firestar blinked blankly at her. "I can't think of anything to say."

An angry, bitter feeling filled her heart at his word. _You can't think of anything to say?_ She raged inwardly. _Out of all the things you could say to me, you can't even think of a single one?_ "And why is that?" she asked scathingly. A dazed, lost look crossed Firestar's face. He looked down at the floor between them and Sandstorm felt her anger quickly fade into annoyance. _Oh, so we're playing_ that _game now?_ He let out a choked note as he stepped away from her, hiding half of his face. Her irritation was quickly replaced with concern. _Firestar?_ He took a heaving breath before turning his back to her completely, resting his forehead against the door. His breath hitched once and with a jolt, Sandstorm realized that he was crying.

 _Oh Starreign_ , she thought helplessly.

 _He really treasures you_ , a voice sighed from deep within. _He can't do anything but cry in front of you now. He's thoroughly convinced that nothing he can say will bring you back to him._ The voice paused for a second as it waited for the realization to sink in. _He's nothing without you._

 _I broke him_. As she gazed at Firestar's back, all she saw was the hollow husk of a man. _I broke one of the most powerful men I know._ She had to do something. She couldn't let it end this way. Before she knew it, she was turning him around to face her, his tear-stained face cradled in her hands. It seemed that her body knew exactly what she wanted before her mind could decide. She stroked his cheek, gently rubbing away the tear that marked it. His eyes flew open and Sandstorm found herself staring at the most vulnerable side of Firestar. "Does it have to be something that's said?" The redheaded man stared at her, hope and fear lighting up his green eyes.

Oh how she loved those eyes. Wiping the tear from his other cheek, she leaned in hesitantly, sighing as his breath fluttered against her lips. "Can you…show me?" Firestar's face twisted in pain and he crumbled, falling to pieces in her arms. For a split second she was stunned, unsure of how to react to the sobbing mess that poured his heart into her embrace. The next moment she was running her hands through his hair, up and down his sides, and against the small of his back. The entire time she held him, she noticed, his arms were hanging limply at his sides. _He doesn't think I want him to touch me_ , she thought to herself. A small, bitter smile crossed her lips. _What a foolish man._ She rested her head against his. My _foolish man._

"I'm sorry," he breathed into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry." Sandstorm held him as he cried and repeated his apologies each icy fragment of her heart melting away with each apology. It was a beautiful surrender. When he began to pull away, her arms tightened around his waist. He looked up, overwhelmed by confusion.

"Do you love me, Firestar?" She whispered, pressing her forehead against him. She felt him hesitate and growled inwardly. He was going to degrade himself again.

"I—"

"Do you love _me_?" She asked again, pressing her entire body against him. He gazed at her, a mixture of hope and fear glowing in his emerald eyes. With a shudder, he leaned back against her, finally wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes." He pressed his nose against hers and took a shaky breath. "Please come home," he whispered. "Please come back to me." Sandstorm pressed her lips against his and relished the tenderness of his lips. _They're softer than usual_ , she noted inwardly. His lips had swelled slightly from his tears and he pressed back against her desperately, making a small, distressed note. She broke off the kiss to gaze at him, a tender smile crossing her face when he leaned in for more.

 _My foolish, broken man_. She sighed as Firestar lifted her hand and gently brushed a kiss over her scrapes. "You should rest for a little longer," he whispered, gently pushing his nose against hers. "And I should probably go check up on Squirrelflight." When he made a move to leave, Sandstorm tugged him back to her.

"Stay," she murmured, gently rubbing their noses together. "Squirrelflight has Leafpool to fuss over her. I need _you_." She blinked up at him. "So? Are you going to stay?"

"Always," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers again.

Third Person – Leafpool

When Brambleclaw stopped in front of an open room and motioned for her to step in, the brunette had hesitated. _Is it really necessary that he stands outside?_ Either way, she nodded gratefully at him and slid into the room. Squirrelflight, who was staring out the window with a pout, turned around immediately at her entrance. The redhead's eyes lit up and she beamed at her sister.

"Leafpool! You're here!" She paused and glanced down at her arm with a wince. "Great Starreign, this probably looks horrible." The brunette settled down carefully on the bed and examined her sister's arm. _Looks like the doctor set it correctly_ , she thought in relief. She frowned quickly afterward, plucking at the bandages with obvious displeasure. _But the bandage-work is a completely different story._ With a sigh, she began to undo the cloth before winding it more securely around the brace Squirrelflight's arm was tied to. Leafpool felt her sister gaze at her in amusement as she tightened the fabric and sat back with a satisfied huff.

"Did they give you something for the pain?" She asked softly.

"Yeah, something that makes me feel a bit ditzy, but the feeling will pass sooner or later," the redhead replied. She wiggled her arm experimentally and grinned when Leafpool glared at her. Pining Squirrelflight's arm to the bed, the brunette watched her sister warily before settling back down. Suddenly, the easygoing look in the redhead's eyes faded into complete seriousness. "Is papa with you?"

Leafpool bit her lip. Although she was happy that the Herobexy doctor hadn't given Squirrelflight enough medicine to make her delirious, the topic of their parents was still touchy. "He's with mother right now," the brunette murmured after a few moments of silence. "I hope everything's alright between the two of them."

"Oh they're fine, alright," Dustpelt grumbled, stalking into the room. Brambleclaw gave Leafpool an apologetic look before following suit. "Kissing under someone's roof…you'd think they'd have the decency to do it in their own house…" Leafpool and Squirrelflight shared a look before bursting out into giggles. A feeling of relief settled over the brunette's heart. _Thank Starreign everything is alright._ Settling against a crowded bookcase, the amber-eyed aristocrat cocked his head at Leafpool. "How's our doctor?"

"He'll do," the brunette sniffed testily. "He was…mediocre on the bandages."

"Horrible," Squirrelflight translated. "Fire him. Call for Cinderpelt. She's our only hope." She flopped dramatically onto her bed, emitting a low wail of pain.

"Like bandages killed anyone," Dustpelt growled scathingly.

"You can imagine," Brambleclaw chuckled. Of course, this remark earned him a bemused glare from the older aristocrat.

"Anyway, our doctor is just fine."

"Cinderpelt's better," Squirrelflight shot back.

"That's because you're used to her."

"She's been our doctor for over seven years! It'd be hard _not_ to be used to her!"

"Well our doctor's been with us for over two decades."

"At least Cinderpelt's nice and funny." Squirrelflight grumbled. "Your doctor gave me a dirty look and tut-tutted at me when I told him the bandages were too loose."

"He's not the most sociable person in the world."

"Excuses—excuses!"

Third Person – Leafpool

In the months that followed her parents' reunion, Leafpool and her sister reached their fourteen year. Before long, the brunette found herself documenting the various differences of her body in the mirror in the morning, gazing uneasily at her developing body. Each day was greeted with chest pains, aching limbs, and an awkwardly pitched voice. It wasn't long before their mother had asked their seamstresses to start sewing supportive pads into their clothing. When they were told that it wouldn't be long before they would have to start wearing corsets, Squirrelflight had balked and ignored her father for days. It was only until Leafpool soothed her that the redhead begrudgingly agreed to be measured for the whalebone clothing.

Leafpool smiled bemusedly as she skimmed through her newest sketchbook. She had a few drawings of her sister being fitted by the seamstresses and a couple others of the corsets in process. Despite the hellish feeling of being poked and prodded by the bony clothing, she couldn't help but admire how beautiful they were. There was a certain elegance to them with their lacy sides, delicate ribbons, and womanly grace. She could almost feel them shaping her into the woman she saw drifting through her dreams—divine, mystifying, _goddess_.

But the image she saw before her was awkward and gangly, with thin, shaky arms and growing pains. As if to make matters more complicated, Cinderpelt informed her and her sister that they were turning over a new leaf and starting the next chapter of their life. A new chapter, the gray-haired tutor said, that she and Sandstorm would be more than willing to guide them through. In the weeks that followed, she and her sister were thrown into uncharted oceans, learning in depth the wonders of the human body and the truth of child-bearing. There were times where Squirrelflight would ask to leave the room with a traumatized expression on her face and other times where the two of them could easily be mistaken for tomatoes with their burning cheeks, but in the end, Leafpool took the lessons to her heart.

"Very few aristocrats are graced with the knowledge of this information _,_ " Cinderpelt told them. "Even more so the midwives that wait on them. Many women have helped others deliver their children with a mixture of luck and chance. They know very little of how to treat a woman whose child had not yet turned or when there are complications in the birth." The gray-haired woman paused then, a wistful and melancholic glint in her eyes. "Both the mother and her child will die in those circumstances. The reason why I'm teaching you these things is because I feel that knowledge will help you in circumstances that may seem out of your control. As long as you know what is needed, there is will always a chance of the impossible becoming feasible."

Her first encounter with love was brought to her through Squirrelflight. It had been going on for a few months now, as the redhead's playful banters with Brambleclaw became less and less frequent. Squirrelflight took to being agitated around the brunet and often exhibited rosy cheeks. It wasn't look before Leafpool noticed the knowing gleam in her mother's eye and the wary glares her father threw Brambleclaw over the dinner table. What bothered her more was how it didn't take long for Tawnypelt to share sly smiles with Feathertail and giggle at the confused redhead.

It was a like a fresh breath of air when Squirrelflight burst into her room in the dead of the night, blabbering incoherently as she climbed into the brunette's bed. In the most dire circumstances, it made Leafpool feel honored that she was the first that Squirrelflight ran to. Once the two of them were situated under the blankets and the redhead had calmed down significantly, Leafpool was able to make sense of her sister's babbles. "My stomach feels like it's in knots whenever I'm around him," Squirrelflight admitted as Leafpool ran her fingers soothingly through her red hair. "And my skin burns where touches me." The redhead buried her face into her sister's collar and the heat radiating off of her skin told the brunette she was blushing. "I'm so…self-conscious around him. I'm scared to know what he thinks of me." The fingers on Leafpool's nightgown tightened. "I'm scared to know what these feelings are."

Leafpool stayed as her sister voiced her worries, taking in each word and rolling it over in her head. When Squirrelflight finally caved into the quiet melody of sleep, she left her sister staring at the ceiling, drawing the redhead's concerns deeper and deeper into her heart. What was this strange feeling that was plaguing her sister? Was there anything that she could do to alleviate that pressure? Was there any possibility that it would one day come to haunt her? When she took these questions to Cinderpelt the next day, she was met with a tender smile before she and her sister were brought before their mother.

That day, Sandstorm explained it all—the butterflies, the burning, the self-consciousness. "It's when you wonder if the person in front of you is someone you want to be with for the rest of your life," the auburn-haired woman murmured. "He's the first one you look for when you step into the room, he's the first person you look for in a crowd—he's the one who makes you feel anxious regardless of whether he's standing right next to you or is sitting miles away." A small, bemused smile crossed their mother's face. "Despite having been rather oblivious about his own love life, your father has taken quite an interest in yours," Sandstorm chuckled, eye glittering at Squirrelflight.

The redheaded girl had bristled immediately at the thought of her father interfering in whatever feeling she held for Brambleclaw, but her mother quickly reassured her that Firestar's intentions were in her best interests. "He's not pleased that you have to wait," Sandstorm explained, "but he's also terrified of you growing up too quickly." She smiled sadly as she gazed at her two daughters. "He's lost a lot of time," she whispered softly before the grin on her face grew mischievous. "Brambleclaw should consider what's standing in front of him soon or I'm afraid your father is going to question his intentions with you. But I heard that Tawnypelt was dropping hints for him, so I'm sure it won't be long before he comes to his senses."

There was something about romance that unnerved Leafpool. If Brambleclaw truly had intentions of courting her sister, the brunette would see less and less of the person she never had to intimately share with anyone. She couldn't push down the fear that she would no longer be the most person in her sister's life. _If I'm not the most important person in Squirrelflight's life, then who's would I be?_ This instability was unsettling for her. She spent countless nights pacing, dreading the moment that Squirrelflight would be moving on without her. She knew that she was overreacting, but the hormones racing through her veins quickly did away with the rationality of her mind.

Then, on the topic of romance, she began to question Cinderpelt's status as single. At her age, many aristocrats were married and carrying their second—if not third—child. "I heard she was one of the best doctors in the Empire. People asked for her services far and wide, but one day, she announced that she wasn't going to be a doctor anymore." Squirrelflight frowned thoughtfully. "They say that she quit being a medical doctor because papa asked her to consider becoming a tutor for us instead. But why would she do that? She was famous—everyone needed her."

"Well maybe she was tired of being needed," Leafpool offered quietly. "Maybe she just wanted to be wanted."

"But why for papa? She could've easily gone to Rushtail or Larkwing if they asked for her."

"I think she feels like she owes father something. After all, he was had been a beacon of light for her after her…accident." It was difficult to refer to Cinderpelt's disability as anything other than an accident. It had been a touchy subject ever since they were young. Supposedly, the gray-haired doctor had been taking a morning ride when something startled her horse. Thrown from her mare's back, Cinderpelt had been lying, dazed on the ground as her horse reared back and stamped down, crushing her owner's leg. Cinderpelt had been their age at that time and had shared Squirrelflight's dream of fighting for the Empire if a conflict was ever to arise. Those dreams of fighting alongside the defenders of her nation were crushed alongside her leg.

Yellowfang had been the one to pull the disabled teenager from her depression. She had been the first one to tell Cinderpelt to stop wallowing in self-pity and stand again. _"And if you can't stand on your own, you can be damn certain that there are people waiting to catch you when you fall."_ From there on, Cinderpelt had turned away from her impossible dream of the war front and turned to domestic affairs. Under Yellowfang's careful guidance and Firestar's undying support, the gray-haired teenager flourished, easily becoming one of the most well-known doctors in the Empire. Before long, Cinderpelt became an international superstar.

"She was broken for a long time," Leafpool whispered softly. _And I want to find someone to save her again._ Even after all this time, the gray-haired woman still didn't seem as if she had accepted her disability. "We should find someone for her."

"I'm not sure if papa would be particularly happy about that," Squirrelflight objected. "After all, he sees her like a daughter." A giddy smile crossed the redhead's face. "Like _our_ sister. Speaking of butting into other people's business, did you know that Crowfeather proposed to Feathertail?" The green-eyed teenager hissed excitedly. "They're _engaged_!"

The first jolt of shock was expected. Fifteen was a very young age to get engaged, and although Feathertail was already eighteen, Leafpool couldn't help but feel that they were rushing into it. She hadn't heard of any courting between the two and despite her sister's excitement, a wave of disappointment washed over the brunette. For some reason, she expected him to have thought things out a little more. _I suppose love can alter the way people think_ , she sighed inwardly. Either way, she would be happy for them.

The second tremor of shock as the reality set in was laced with betrayal and jealousy. A heavy feeling settled in Leafpool's heart as she tried to comprehend the uncomfortable twist in her stomach at the news of Crowfeather's engagement. It nipped at her heels irritatingly, distracting her from her studies and making her shift restlessly in any silent moment. It only became worse at dinnertime, when Squirrelflight congratulated Graystripe and announced that her two friends were being married. "I hope she'll ask me to be a bridesmaid. I'll even wear one of those annoying corsets to do it!" Everyone at the dinner table except Leafpool had snorted at the redhead's words.

When desert was being served, the brunette became aware of a pair of eyes burning a hole into the side of her head. As if stung, Leafpool's head snapped up to see Cinderpelt gazing at her with an indescribable expression on her face. But just as quickly as she had met her tutor's blue eyes, the gray-eyed woman turned her eyes away to study the cake before her, as if she hadn't been staring. It unnerved Leafpool, but it was the least of her worries. Littlecloud frequently requested to have her accompany him in his rounds at the marketplace to provide medical services to the less fortunate, so her time with the other tutors was significantly diminished.

When Mothwing took over Mudpelt's position as the doctor of Riverside, it had led to an uproar in the medicinal community. Many in the Starreign wing protested, arguing that only physicians with a connection with Starreign were allowed to hold a title of a house's doctor. Opponents said otherwise—that it was finally time for merit over privilege. The only thing that the two groups agreed on, however, was that the inexperienced blonde should _not_ hold that much power in a house. By holding the title of Riverside's doctor, Mothwing had power and precedence over treatment and even the decisions that head of the house made.

It was a terrifying ordeal. Cinderpelt stood between the two groups—her loyalty to Starreign protesting to Mothwing's new title and her sense of moral justice arguing for the other side. The gray-haired woman spent days going around the Empire, trying to convince everyone to come to a compromise. Mothwing would not be allowed to claim her title as Riverside's doctor until she was deemed experienced enough by Willowpelt's advisory board—which held a neutral point through this debate—and in the meantime, a doctor would be assigned to Riverside to oversee the blonde's training. Of course, this compromise was still being debated heavily by the doctor council and there was yet to reach any agreement.

Then there was the conflict with Ashfur and Brambleclaw. Ashfur, who had visited Zephyra manor as a child, became infatuated with Squirrelflight. He often did whatever he could to take the redhead's attention away from Brambleclaw, who, according to Tawnypelt, had yet to realize his feelings for Squirrelflight. The redhead, being the proud, stubborn teenager she was, grew frustrated with the brunet and often turned to Ashfur out of frustration. Of course, this led to more confusion, jealousy, and stalemate than ever before. Firestar, who wasn't taking Ashfur's advances on his daughter very kindly, was also growing more impatient with Brambleclaw.

Leafpool trembled under the pressure, feeling overwhelmed as her sister, Mothwing, and Littlecloud turned to her for assistance. She endured many sleepless nights, pacing the halls and taking to cleanliness to a "t". She snapped at her tutors when they suggested an easy day and roamed the manor with a dark aura that quickly left servants trembling in her presence. This continued on for a few weeks before the brunette promptly passed out in the middle of a meal from too many sleepless nights and towering workloads.

When she woke the next day, she felt like a broken record—scratched and overused to the point of being unrecognizable. She began secluding herself in her room, ignoring her family as they each took turns begging her to come out by her door. She took to staring out the window, at her sketchbooks, and the ceiling. Time was an entity unfamiliar to her. There was almost always food waiting outside of her door and she left her bedroom only to relieve herself in the restroom. After seven days of repetitive nothingness, she woke from a troubled sleep to see that Cinderpelt had kicked her door in.

"That's it," the gray-haired woman informed the brunette, throwing the covers from over Leafpool's body. "Get up. We're going out today."

Third Person – Cinderpelt

It had taken her a total of five weeks to realize how tightly the wire had wound around Leafpool's sanity. She had noticed a slight disturbance in the brunette's concentration when Squirrelflight announced that Feathertail and Crowfeather were engaged. She had seen Leafpool's fingers shake with exhaustion after hours of running around the Empire with Littlecloud. She had observed the rigidness of the brunette's smile as she allowed Squirrelflight and Mothwing alternate and take turns leaning on her. A part of Cinderpelt's mind told her that Leafpool was at a delicate age, one where she should be nurtured as opposed to challenged. But after years of working under an unforgiving and strict Yellowfang, she had learned to ignore the voice of reason in her head. What seems impossible will always be possible if viewed examined in a different way.

So when Leafpool had locked herself in her room and refused to leave for a week, Cinderpelt realized that she had waited too long to act. She should've noticed how the brunette's breath quickened slightly and how her movements became more agitated whenever Squirrelflight or Mothwing was around. She should've noticed how distracted Leafpool was during their lessons and how her temper had grown to rival Dustpelt's. She should've noticed all the little things that resembled the high pitched ringing noise a wire would make just before it snapped under pressure. Leafpool was being pulled apart in two different directions and had been too selfless to notice.

When the seventh day came to greet Cinderpelt, she realized that Leafpool was stuck in limbo, unable to step away from her troubles or stride confidently past her concerns. Quickly making up her mind, the gray-haired doctor limped over to the brunette's door and promptly kicked it down. It had taken her quite a lot of effort and she bit her lip to stop the grimace of pain that threatened to come across her face. Limping rather heavily into Leafpool's room, she ripped the covers off the teenager and gave her a hard look. "Get up. We're going out today."

It was almost alarming how obedient the brunette was, even in her dazed state of mind. It was something that came out of years of complete obedience and submission. Despite being one of the most talented doctor-in-trainings that Cinderpelt had ever had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with, Leafpool had very little pride for what she accomplished. She accepted compliments with a shy smile, but never allowed the satisfied feeling to sink into her skin. A doctor's life was a road of selflessness, Cinderpelt thought, but it was also one of pride. A doctor was a person who could break someone into pieces but sew another back together.

As she dragged the brunette down the staircase with her, Cinderpelt curtly informed Sandstorm and Firestar that she would be borrowing their daughter for the week. "Although I'm more than willing to spend my savings on her, I would appreciate it if you allowed your daughter some of her own spending freedom." Firestar had practically thrown a bag of coins at the gray-haired tutor at her words as Sandstorm ushered the two of them out of the manor. The thankful glint in the auburn-haired woman's eyes was enough to tell Cinderpelt that nobody had been expecting the brunette to break down as suddenly as she did.

Throughout her life, Cinderpelt realized, Leafpool had acted as an anchor in her family. She was the one that Squirrelflight confided in, the one who obeyed her parents' commands, and encouraged acts of chivalry between the aristocrats and their servants. Today was the day that she would find an anchor to tie herself to, the gray-haired tutor decided. Today was the day that Leafpool learned how to share her burden with others.

By the time that they had settled down into their carriage, the brunette's eyes had focused slightly and the dazed look was slowly leaving her gaze. Taking it as a good sign, Cinderpelt squeezed Leafpool's hand as their groom started up the horses. "Where are we going?"

"Lilystone," she replied calmly. "I have a few errands to run, but I also have someone I want you to meet." Immediately, the brunette's eyes sharpened in interest. Mentally patting herself on the back, Cinderpelt shifted until she was comfortable and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

There were many things she wished to share with Leafpool, especially after hearing that the brunette had already visited where Starreign and Starclan overlapped in her dreams. However, Yellowfang advised her against it, stating that Starreign had different plans for the brunette. "It will only hurt her to remain in the past," the graying blonde had told Cinderpelt. "She will only be broken by the history she has left behind. It is best to keep this past hidden away from her." Her amber eyes narrowed in warning. "Do _not_ provoke any locked memories. Sometimes, it is best to leave things as they are."

Cinderpelt was one of the few doctors who had access to the memories of their past lives. Supposedly, there was some sort of selection ceremony that the Starreign spirits held to determine who would act as mediators in the Empire. The mediators were expected to use the knowledge they accumulated over two lifetimes to advise and oversee the lives of those whose memories would not be unlocked. She had been specifically assigned to care for Leafpool—a responsibility that she had ignored for many years.

The brunette's dormant memories have most likely been reawakened by Crowfeather and Feathertail's engagement. Cinderpelt had learned the hard way that sentiments of the past life haunted the actions of those alive today. After all, she hadn't expected Spottedleaf, a fellow mediator, to lose herself in her past life. In the days approaching her death, the amber-eyed doctor had grown obsessed with Firestar and memories of the past. There were times that she had slipped information from their former lives, much to the horror of the other mediators and Starreign. When mediator council had finally decided on sealing Spottedleaf's past and wiping her memories through the spirits of Starreign, the amber-eyed woman was already gone.

 _"I fear for Leafpool, Cinderpelt,"_ Yellowfang had murmured in their most recent meeting. Her graying tail swiped back and forth agitatedly. _"She and Spottedleaf had a rather traumatizing encounter. Bluestar and I weren't close enough to hear what was exchanged early on in their conversation, but they were most definitely provoking each other."_ A haunted look crossed Yellowfang's features. _"You must never let her relapse into her past,"_ she hissed urgently. _"We have worked too hard and too long to let her live a different life. She deserves more than what the past has given her. She needs to know what love is."_ Her amber eyes locked onto Cinderpelt. _"We_ all _need to know what love is."_

 _What do I need to do, Yellowfang?_ The gray-haired woman thought irritably. As usual, the Starreign spirits had to be mysterious and talk in riddles and whatnot. They were always vague with their advice and they loved to beat around a topic until every tangent source was depleted. _Is it so hard just to say it outright?_ When the carriage slowed to a stop, Cinderpelt blinked as Leafpool scooted over to the door. Shuffling out after her, the blue-eyed woman smiled at the groomsman who helped her out. A faint blush adorned his cheeks and he tipped his hat at her with a shy smile before rushing back to the front of the carriage. He would return within a few hours to bring them back to Zephyra manor.

Cinderpelt turned to see the corners of Leafpool's lips twitch slightly as the brunette gazed at the exchange between the two adults. The gray-haired woman cocked an eyebrow at her apprentice and huffed at her. "What?" she complained.

"He likes you," Leafpool whispered mischievously, as if pleased by this secret. Cinderpelt glanced over her shoulder at the brown-eyed groomsman just in time to see him doing the same. A bright red flush decorated his face as he and the horses hurried away, probably to stop at some local inn so he would be able to have some time to explore Lilystone on his own. _He's new, but Firestar seemed to like him._ The gray-haired woman thought. Turning back to Leafpool, the blue-eyed woman scowled to see the sappy grin on her apprentice's face. Inwardly, however, her heart warmed at the smile. The brunette finally looked relaxed.

"Don't be silly," Cinderpelt chastised, swatting at Leafpool's bottom to get the two of them moving. "Let him decide his feelings for himself. After all, the only person who can be sure of his feelings is himself."

 **Actions**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Text**

Third Person – Leafpool

Lilystone was a bustling, lively city with beautiful streets and friendly strangers. As with any market center, there were the usual barterers, pick-pockets, and thieves, but Cinderpelt was experienced in maneuvering through the crowds. Rather, she was so well-known that the people around her would create a bubble of space so she could pass easily. Leafpool glanced into the crowd and realized that a few grateful smiles were meant for her. Relatives and friends of former patients called out to her hospitably, asking questions about when she and Littlecloud would provide their medicinal services and what to do for small, health-related issues.

When she was nearly overwhelmed by the gratitude of the people around her, Cinderpelt's hand rested securely on her shoulder and steered the flustered brunette away from the enthusiastic crowds. The two of them headed into a familiar shop—an herb shop that many doctors frequented for the supplies they couldn't gather at home. While Cinderpelt exchanged greetings with the shop keeper, Leafpool stared out the windows, watching as various merchants threw out the prices of their items. One woman caught her eye in particular, gem-encrusted and deafening as she waved over wandering shoppers. Letting out a soft snort of amusement at the obvious look of disappointment on the woman's face when a potential customer was scared off, Leafpool turned to see that Cinderpelt was waiting for her.

"See anything you like?" When the brunette shook her head, the older woman led her out of the shop, throwing parting words over her shoulder at the herb seller. The two of them headed further down the street to gaze at the various products the merchants were selling.

Third Person – Cinderpelt

Cinderpelt examined the smoky, green and black shawl before her, testing the fabric thoughtfully between her fingers. She ignored the babbling merchant beside her, tuning out his memorized sales pitch on the quality of his items and the affordability of his goods. _I've been thinking about getting something for Sandstorm's birthday,_ the gray-haired woman thought. Satisfied, she turned to the man beside her with a wry smile. "Four emras, please," he asked cheerfully. _Four emras for such a thin shawl?_ Cinderpelt frowned and cocked her head at the merchant, studying the hesitant gleam in his eye critically.

"I hardly believe this shawl is worth four emras," she informed him coolly.

"You're right," he agreed hastily, "it's worth five." _The nerve!_ Although she wasn't unfamiliar with bartering merchants, this was the first time that one had dared to increase the price on her. Setting her jaw distastefully, she returned the scarf to its place and hobbled away, ignoring his confused pleas to return. _Young merchants_ , Cinderpelt thought angrily. _Always thinking they can get away with saying something like that._ She paused and glared over her shoulder at the disheartened seller. _You don't win a customer over when you imply that you're selling your goods for much cheaper than what they are worth!_

Beside her, Leafpool hovered concernedly, uncomfortable at the heated look in her mentor's eyes. "The shawl wasn't even that nice," the brunette murmured quietly. The gray-haired woman's hackles fell immediately at the helpful tone in her apprentice's voice. A small smile touched her lips as Cinderpelt gazed at Leafpool.

"You're right," she agreed. "That's why we'll be going somewhere else," she threw another sour look over her shoulder, "and get your mother something _much nicer_ than that flimsy piece of cloth!" The brunette next to her started uncomfortably, but Cinderpelt ruffled her hair fondly. The two of them continued on, listening to the bickering customers as they squawked over merchants' goods.

"Flowers! Would you like to buy some flowers?" The gray-haired woman's head followed Leafpool's as both of them turned to see a girl and her younger brother standing at a corner with a basket of flowers in their arms. The two of them watched as the girl reached out to a passerby before being roughly shoved back in place. Leafpool turned her gaze to Cinderpelt, her large, amber eyes glowing with sympathy. An affectionate smile crossed the gray-haired woman's face as she gazed down at the brunette. _That's the Leafpool I know,_ she thought in relief. _Always putting others before herself._

"Come on," Cinderpelt said, tugging Leafpool away from the sellers. At the distraught glimmer in her amber eyes, the older woman snorted in amusement before giving her a mischievous smile. "I've got a plan," she hissed softly. She drew Leafpool into a bakery and stood back as the brunette flew to the shelves. _"She'll make a good doctor, Cinderpelt," Littlecloud murmured. His light blue eyes glimmered softly at her. She shifted uncomfortably—Yellowfang had informed her of his past sentiments. Had those feelings carried onto this life? "Leafpool was born to be a medicine cat, and now…she was reborn to be a doctor. Someone to care when there's no one who's willing to love."_

Cinderpelt quietly paid the baker a reba, glancing tenderly at Leafpool, who bounced impatiently at her side. When her change was returned to her, the two of them left the shop in search of the flower-sellers. Nudging the brunette, Cinderpelt watched as Leafpool rushed toward the girl and her brother, thrusting her bag of bread in haste. The two siblings looked conflicted at first, but when a bread roll was placed into the brother's hands, all complaints were dropped. He tore into the bread, crying as he placed it to his mouth. Leafpool gently wiped the brother's eyes before handing the rest of the bag to the sister.

Deciding it was a good time to step in, Cinderpelt hobbled over. Wrapping her change in a handkerchief, she passed it onto the older of the two with a smile. The flower-seller gazed at the gray-haired woman gratefully, her hands closing tightly around the bundled coins. "How can we ever thank you?" She choked out, clutching the handkerchief to her chest. Leafpool glanced uneasily at Cinderpelt before trying to reply. Hearing the beginnings of the memorized doctoring speech she often heard Littlecloud murmur to his patients, the blue-eyed woman intervened.

"Why don't we take some of your flowers, then?" She offered helpfully. "They are beautiful." The sister thrust the flowers forward, babbling about how they should take as many as they like. Chuckling at the flustered expression on the girl's face, Cinderpelt watched as Leafpool picked out a handful of flowers. _Meadowsweet. Cornflowers._ The brunette was most likely thinking of Graystripe, the blue-eyed woman decided. After all, those flowers had been Silverstream's favorites.

"Starreign bless you," the younger boy mumbled around a mouthful of bread. His sister shot him a critical look and both the aristocrats chuckled at his words.

"And may Starreign's great tidings fall on your shoulders for the days to come." Leafpool bowed to them, startling everyone. Pride flowered in Cinderpelt's heart as she gazed at the brunette. A true doctor cared little about social differences and boundaries. _A true doctor does not fear to extend his services to anyone._

Cinderpelt rested a hand on Leafpool's shoulder, startling the brunette out of her bow. "We should be moving on," the gray-haired woman murmured softly. She smiled gently at the sibling pair. "Thank you for the flowers," she said pleasantly as she led Leafpool away. When they were out of hearing range, the brunette leaned closer to her mentor.

"Thank you, Cinderpelt."

"Nonsense." The gray-haired woman waved her away. "Now why don't we go find something to get for your mother and father? Their anniversary is approaching rather quickly, isn't it?" At the excited expression on the brunette's face, Cinderpelt silently tucked away lingering sentiments at the mention of Firestar.

It had startled her to learn that her feelings toward the redhead mirrored the same longing she held for him when they were cats. The only difference was that this time around, she knew how petty her attraction to him was. He was an idol, an example—someone to look up to and admire. In addition to that, there was no way to rival the love that Sandstorm held for him. Cinderpelt's infatuation quickly died away when she saw how happy Firestar had been at Sandstorm's side when Spottedleaf slipped out of his life. There were momentary flares of jealousy of what could've been from time to time, but for the most part, they stayed at bay. It soothed Cinderpelt to know that her past life was merely a shadow to be remembered as opposed to a shadow to be feared.

"In a few weeks' time," Leafpool replied. "But I don't want to go back to the plaza." She glanced warily over her shoulder. "I can't say the merchants there are particularly agreeable."

"Tell me about it," Cinderpelt snorted, her mind immediately going to the man who tried to sell her the black-and-green shawl. "But I have a different place in mind." A wry smile crossed her face at the thought of her student meeting Whiteear's. _I have a feeling the two of them will get along_ very _well._

Third Person –Leafpool

She followed Cinderpelt to a small shop on a busy corner of Lilystone. She tilted her head up just in time to catch the name of the shop. _The Red Sapphire_. She frowned thoughtfully. _I wonder what they mean by that._ True to its name, it was a jewelry shop, filled with glistening trinkets and glowing metals. However, the goods were much more pleasing to the eye than the chunky jewels the woman merchant had been trying to sell in the plaza. Leafpool relaxed at the tranquil, melodic feel of the shop, looking up lazily when a bell rang to make her presence known.

The sound of footsteps grew louder until a white-haired man pushed through two swinging doors. "Welcome, welcome!" He greeted, wiping his hands on a cloth before the grin on his face widened significantly. "Cinderpelt! It's been a while!" Pushing open a small door on the side of the counter, he opened his arms to the gray-haired woman. Leafpool watched as the two embraced and the man press two light kisses on either side of Cinderpelt's cheeks.

"Whiteear," Cinderpelt laughed, giving him a small squeeze before stepping back. "This is Firestar's daughter—Leafpool." She glanced fondly over her shoulder at the brunette. "She's studying to be a doctor—and a mighty fine one at that." Leafpool felt a small burst of pride fill her chest at Cinderpelt's words. The gray-haired woman rarely praised anyone. "Ah, good afternoon, Featherpelt. I see you're doing well."

" _Bonjour_ ," a young man greeted, his long blond locks swaying as he took up the counter. " _Oui_ , all is well." _A foreigner_ , Leafpool noted with surprise. His accent and his choice of greeting spoke of a neighboring nation whose diplomats occasionally visited Zephyra manor. After all, Firestar's house was one of six houses that tended to international affairs above domestics. The blond man tucked a few strands of wavy hair behind his ear before smiling charmingly at the two aristocrats. " _Mon belle_ , welcome to our shop," he murmured, addressing Leafpool. Her cheeks colored immediately at the endearment and Cinderpelt chuckled softly at her reaction to his words.

"Don't try to sweet talk my student!" She chastised playfully.

"It is in his _blood_ *," Whiteear sniffed dramatically. The two adults burst into laughter and Leafpool smiled shyly at the joke. Featherpelt seemed faintly bemused and exasperated by their antics and shook his head lightly at them. "Anyway, it is so nice to finally meet you, Leafpool." The shopkeeper extended a hand to her. "I can finally put a face to the girl that Cinderpelt's been telling me about!" His green eyes twinkled at her. "Anyway, what brings you here today? Running business with the herbs, as usual?"

"No, we're thinking of picking out a few things for Firestar and the others," Cinderpelt explained. "And Leafpool's been feeling a bit down in the dumps lately, so I decided that fresh air would be a good change for her." She smiled wryly at Featherpelt, "I also wanted her to finally meet the two of you," she said. Leaning in slightly, she hissed, "Between you and me, I've been hoping to get her a few more friends."

"Cinderpelt!" Again, the adults' laughter filled the air as the brunette's cheeks flushed indignantly. Although her list of friends was depressingly short, she saw no reason for the blue-eyed woman to interfere in her relationships.

"A bit down in the dumps, eh?" Whiteear mused aloud. "I think I have just the thing! Featherpelt, go and bring out the special inventory." The young blond raised an eyebrow at his mentor's words, but disappeared through the swinging doors without a sound. When the blond was out of hearing range, the green-eyed man leaned forward and winked at Leafpool. "Here's a secret—I've been dying to get him a new friend as well." He glanced over his shoulder with a mischievous expression on his face. "Don't tell him I said that, though."

Leafpool giggled—Whiteear had turned the shop atmosphere from awkward to relaxed in a matter of seconds. It was understandable why Cinderpelt was so fond of him. "Alright," she agreed excitedly, thrilled at the thought of hiding a secret, regardless of how trivial it was. She looked down shyly at her hands, only to have a flash of silver catch her eye. Entranced, she leaned forward, gazing at an alluring piece of jewelry.

"Leafpool? You see something you like?" Nodding absentmindedly, the brunette made room for Cinderpelt as the two of them gazed at the necklace. Interested, Whiteear took Featherpelt's place behind the counter, following the aristocrats' eyes.

The necklace was beautiful. A large, amber-gold stone about the size of the top of her index finger hung from a delicate silver chain. Brown and black feathers decorated the sides of the jewel, framing it with their slightly curved forms. Whiteear leaned back slightly and gazed thoughtfully at the jewel. "I can't say that necklace is very valuable," he murmured slowly. "If you're interested in topaz, I would suggest you consider the blue kind. Amber and brown are not very popular shades."

There was a clattering noise behind the shopkeeper and Featherpelt reappeared, holding a locked case of jewelry in his arms. "Here is the special inventory," he announced. Setting it down on the counter beside Whiteear, he smiled encouragingly as Leafpool glanced over at the newly revealed jewels. Her eyes stung slightly at the brightness of the jewels and she gave him a small, uncertain smile before turning her attention back to the silver necklace.

"If _beauty is in the eye of the believer_ , then I believe volubility is the same," Cinderpelt told Whiteear as she continued to examine the topaz. Featherpelt, interested to see what was at the center of their attention, hovered nearby. "I think it would look beautiful on you, Leafpool. Can we get a rundown, Whiteear?"

"Of course. The chain is made of iron and is plated with silver. The feathers are hand-crafted and painted with thin layers of paint. The amber-gold topaz in the center is circle-cut and was carefully set into its silver frame." Another frown crossed his face. "Are you sure you want this necklace?" He pressed. "The creator of this piece is neither popular nor from a famous line of artists, so the price of this work is very low. Although it is beautiful, the lower-grade quality of the materials will require frequent care and polishing."

"That would be the least of our concerns with all the events happening right now," Cinderpelt snorted, waving her friend off. "We'll take it. As for polishing, it's fine you teach Leafpool how to take care of it, right?" At the slightly uncomfortable expression on Whiteear's face, the blue-eyed woman made another offer. "Or we can come back every few months to get it worked on. After all, that gives us the perfect excuse to visit you, right?" The shopkeeper still seemed unconvinced that the necklace was a good fit for the two aristocrats, but a small smile crossed his face nonetheless. Glancing back at Leafpool, Cinderpelt nodded encouragingly. "Why don't you pick out some things for your parents?" She suggested. "We might as well look for something that Squirrelflight since we're already here."

"I can help the young miss while the two of you talk," Featherpelt spoke up as Whiteear began to wrap the topaz necklace. The blue-eyed woman blinked gratefully at the blond and turned to her friend, easily falling into a conversation with him. Leafpool inclined her head at the young man slightly before turning her attention to the jewels in the glass casing. Skipping over the bright diamonds and the flashy gemstones, she hovered over a dark, glittering jewel. Immediately, Featherpelt was on the other side of the counter, leaning in slightly to get a better look at what had caught her eye.

"Pyrope Garnet, famous for its dark red color," he murmured when she glanced up at him. "It's not as valuable as a ruby, but it's just as beautiful in my opinion." He cocked his head to the side slightly, studying the necklace. "Tear-shaped, lined with silver plating similar to the one Whiteear wrapped up for you." He pointed to the two tiny emeralds that bordered the garnet. "Although the emeralds increase the value of the piece, the materials used in the necklace make it a much less appealing item."

"It's beautiful," Leafpool whispered softly. Featherpelt glanced over his shoulder at the two chattering adults before leaning in slightly.

"Between you and me, _ma belle_ ," he whispered softly, "that necklace is one of Whiteear's works." A wry smile crossed his face at her surprise. "We jewelers are known for crafting our own pieces. Although we tend not to sell most of our own products, there are still a few customers who purchase them." A bitter look lingered in his pale blue eyes before disappearing again. "He will most likely discourage you from purchasing his necklace."

"It's very hard to discourage a willing customer," Leafpool replied, smiling gently at him. "I'm more than willing to fight with him for this necklace." She hesitated momentarily before adding, "My sister usually refuses to wear jewelry because she complains that it's too gaudy and flashy." She glanced down fondly at the garnet. "Simplicity suits her best," the brunette murmured. "This necklace would fit her better than the other ones I've seen so far." The tender look that crossed Featherpelt's face took her breath away. A genuine smile touched his lips as he carefully unlocked a glass panel and extracted the garnet necklace from the velveteen base.

"Thank you." He carefully tucked the piece into a snippet of cloth and wrapped it in a lacy handkerchief. "Is there anything else you would like to purchase? I'll wrap this necklace with any others that you like." Leafpool paused, mentally picking out the few people from the household list. Her father, like Squirrelflight, was not one for lavish décor. He would most likely accept jewelry out of kindness, but it would be extremely unlikely that he would ever wear it. _He'd probably like it if I carved something for him_ , Leafpool decided. He had been awestruck at her most recent present—a painting of their family being surrounded by their staff.

As for her mother, the auburn-haired woman had frequently complained about her excess of jewelry. That didn't stop her from wearing each gift that Firestar had bought her and the tender look in her eyes reminded Leafpool that no present could outweigh those her father gave. "Do you have pocket watches?" She asked as a memory of Graystripe's amber eyes flashed through her head. The gray-haired aristocrat had frequently complained about never knowing the time and always showing up late to gatherings because of it.

"We have a small collection of them," Featherpelt replied, leading her to a small panel of the glass counter. Leafpool examined each watch carefully before deciding that silver would suit the amber-eyed man best. After pointing out her choice, the blond man wrapped the watch and headed back to where Whiteear and Cinderpelt were chatting. Leafpool followed him on the other side of the counter, admiring the fluidity of Featherpelt's movements as he settled both pieces into thick chunks of velvet.

True to the young man's words, the green-eyed man had glanced over and frowned disapprovingly at the sight of his own necklace. Shaking his head, he totaled the final cost before engaging in a rather intense stare-down with Cinderpelt, who insisted on paying the full price. The two adults bickered for a few moments as the two teenagers glanced at each other and chuckled. "They are sweet, no?" Featherpelt cocked his head thoughtfully at the two mentors. "But Whiteear has yet to recover from his widowed heart. I'm afraid he and Cinderpelt can never see one another as anything more than friends." Leafpool felt a twinge of disappointment as she glanced over at the pair. The two of them looked well together, but there was a completely platonic atmosphere surrounding them.

"I want to find someone for her," she admitted. "She's been lonely for so long…I want her to be happy."

" _Oui_." The blond man nodded firmly. "For the seven years that I have known Cinderpelt, she has yet to mention a lover." A mischievous look glimmered in his eyes. "It seems the two of us will have many things to discuss. Especially regarding our dear Cinderpelt." He bowed his head slightly. "I am pleased to be working with you, _mon belle._ " Leafpool giggled and the two of them looked up just in time to see the adults come to some sort of compromise.

"Three rebas," the blue-eyed woman said firmly, "for three items. That's my last offer."

"These three items do not total to three rebas," Whiteear grumbled. "The necklaces combined barely make two vennas and the value of the watch is one reba." Sighing in defeat, he gave into Cinderpelt's stern look. "Fine. Three rebas." She swatted him fondly and slid three silver coins across the counter, the engraved foxes gleaming in the light.

"You shouldn't sound so reluctant to take my money, Whiteear," she scolded half-heartedly. "You're only cheating yourself in the end."

"There is no cheating when it comes to friends," the green-eyed man shot back weakly, but the battle was won. He handed the wrapped gifts to Cinderpelt carefully before crossing his arms. "The next purchase you make will be free of charge," he grumbled.

"Whiteear!" Exasperation rang through the blue-eyed woman's voice. "Look, why don't you just craft something for me to cover the 'extra' payment?" Letting out a frustrated huff at the displeased expression on Whiteear's face, Cinderpelt's eyes softened slightly. "Whiteear, anything you make me is priceless. Or worth fifty rebas. Make me something that screams _Cinderpelt_ or…"

"I'm making you engagement rings," the green-eyed man decided suddenly. "No complaints!" he snapped when she opened her mouth to object. "Marriage is not out of the question for you, Missy. Though it is a unity that acts as a double-edged knife, happiness comes to those who endure."

Cinderpelt shook her head in defeat and smiled tiredly at her friend. "I'll try, Whiteear." She paused before adding more quietly, "You know how hard it is for me." Alarmed, Leafpool shot a look at Featherpelt only to meet the same confused look in his blue eyes.

"Love is alien to all those who have yet to experience it," the shopkeeper replied gently, his hard expression softening. "Let yourself fall into it, Cinderpelt. Don't try to resist." Turning his attention to the teenagers, he shot a look at Leafpool that clearly said _we'll talk about this later_. A small glimmer of hope blossomed in the brunette's chest at the unspoken promise. With three people giving their uttermost effort to find love for Cinderpelt, there was a greater chance that the gray-haired woman's life would finally fall in place.

It was heartbreaking to see how one-sided Astertail's affections were. The brown-haired groom always had a faint, innocent blush on his cheeks whenever he helped Cinderpelt and Leafpool into the carriage for a monthly visit to the Red Sapphire. He would tip his hat to them in flustered excitement, often tripping over himself in the process. Leafpool thought his clumsy gestures were heartwarming, but that hope was often crushed by how the blue-eyed woman distanced herself from the brown-eyed man. Astertail didn't seem to notice, however, as he tended to the two women like a lovesick puppy, running to their side at their every request and always trying to please them in every way.

During her monthly visits to Lilystone, Leafpool and Featherpelt would head to the back of the Red Sapphire to discuss Cinderpelt's unfortunately nonexistent romantic life as Whiteear chatted with the blue-eyed woman. When she slipped away to go to the other shops and stock up on different items, the shopkeeper would slip into the back to join the two teenagers in their discussion. The green-eyed man was wary of Astertail's intentions at first, but after being reassured countless of times of the brunet's innocence, he begrudgingly began to offer advice as to bringing the two together.

Amidst the brewing conflict over Cinderpelt's love life, Leafpool found a small piece of her heart grow increasingly bitter and jealous as the days went on. Her life had returned to being fairly calm after the doctoring council finally decided on what course of action they would take with Mothwing and the house of Riverside, but the frequent visits by Squirrelflight's friends made her anxious and uncomfortable.

Seven months had passed since the announcement of Crowfeather and Feathertail's engagement. During this time, Tawnypelt had begun courting a redheaded aristocrat from the house of Shadowrim while Brambleclaw continued to struggle with his feelings toward Squirrelflight. The green-eyed teenager was quickly growing frustrated with the situation, purposefully turning to Ashfur on multiple occasions to see if she could get a rise out of the brunet. Of course, that bothered her father to no end and this was evident as his glares toward the Herobexy aristocrat grew increasingly venomous.

As for Leafpool, something ugly twisted inside of her whenever Squirrelflight's engaged friends visited. There would always be pinpricks of pain whenever she caught the two teenagers staring at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking or holding hands as they walked. It had been two years since she had last spoken with Crowfeather, and it bothered her that the bond they had forged during Sandstorm and Firestar's conflict was fading. The blue-eyed aristocrat had been a charming, interesting companion and Leafpool often found herself longing for his company to take her focus off of studying.

For Leafpool, entering the fifteenth year of her life seemed far more stressing than when she became fourteen. During one of her discussions with Featherpelt, she realized with a jolt that the sentiments she held toward Crowfeather were far beyond those of a concerned friend. She had nearly broken down on the spot, unable to comprehend how she could possibly long for someone who was already claimed. Although she managed to avoid secluding herself to her room like last time, she had managed to raise a lot of concern from Cinderpelt and the rest of her family as she began to stumble on her studies again.

It was only at night that Leafpool examined the chaotic brewing mass in her heart and let the news sink in. Almost immediately, the rational side of her would stand up, arguing firmly against the nervous, fluttery emotions that flooded her senses at Crowfeather's proximity. _You barely now him_ , it grumbled pointedly. _Your attraction is unreasonable and irrational. Remember the love stories that Squirrelflight would always tell you about? Remember the lessons that Cinderpelt taught you? This is a phase you're going through. Your hormones are now in control of your mind. This feeling will pass._

It was only two weeks later before Leafpool felt her walls crumble. Before she could confide in Featherpelt, the door had been pushed open and the familiar ringing of the bell brought the blond man to his feet. " _Bonjour_!" he called out, quickly disappearing through the swinging doors. "How may I help you?"

"We're looking for a ring." Curious, Leafpool wandered toward the voices, pushing her way hesitantly into the front of the shop. She froze a few seconds later as two pairs of eyes turned to meet hers.

 _Oh dear Starreign._ Her breath caught in her breath as she stared at Crowfeather and Feathertail, their shocked expressions matching hers. The silver-haired aristocrat was the first to recover, however, as her surprise quickly faded into friendliness. "Leafpool!" she greeted warmly, a gentle smile crossing her face. A wave of jealousy flooded the brunette's heart as she kept her eyes trained on Feathertail. It was so difficult feel bitter toward such a perfect, loving person. An ugly knot formed in her heart as the Riverside aristocrat leaned forward. "It's been a while," Feathertail murmured. "You've been busy with your studies!"

Leafpool laughed bitterly in her head at the woman's words. She had resorted to her old tactics of avoiding Squirrelflight's friends—hiding out in the library or locking herself in her room. They were all guises so she wouldn't have to see the tenderness of Crowfeather's eyes as he gazed at his fiancée. "I have," she lied smoothly. "Congratulations on your engagement." In her attempts to avoid the two aristocrats at all costs, she had failed to formally give them her congratulations. "Are you picking out wedding rings today?"

"Yes." It was Crowfeather who answered this time, his blue eyes trained on Leafpool. She felt the smile on her face freeze and she turned her head away.

"Then you've come to the right place," she heard herself say. "Whiteear and Featherpelt have some of the best rings I've ever seen."

"Really?" Feathertail's eyes widened in interest. "Then do you mind helping us choose a ring? I think something simple would be nice, but Crowfeather here wants to get something extravagant." She tossed an affectionate look at the blue-eyed aristocrat by her side. Staring through the glass counter, Leafpool could see him squeeze his fiancée's hand gently. Another ugly knot formed in her throat at their display of affection. _She means a lot to him_ , she thought numbly. He had always been a very private person when it came to emotion. "Always trying to spoil me," Feathertail whispered fondly. "I don't need to be pampered!"

"But I want to pamper you," Crowfeather rumbled. Turning his attention to Featherpelt, who was waiting patiently behind the counter, he gave the blond man a curt nod. "We'll need a bit of assistance choosing a ring."

"Of course. It is completely understandable for you to be concerned with the perfection of the ring." Featherpelt's smile was tight as he bowed his head to the Ebenwing aristocrat. Leafpool felt her heart tighten in a mixture of anger and disbelief. How could Crowfeather treat the blond man like that? A small voice in the back of her mind quickly reminded her that in the grand scheme of things, Crowfeather was an aristocrat and Featherpelt was a lowly peasant. Those social differences spoke volumes in terms of giving and receiving respect. _You and Cinderpelt are the only aristocrats that treat him as an equal_ , the voice sighed. "Might I suggest one of our beautiful sapphire rings? They will most definitely bring out the beauty of the bride's eyes."

Featherpelt carefully picked out two rings, bringing them to rest on the counter so the two aristocrats could examine them. Leafpool felt a stab of jealousy as she took in the beauty of the silver bands. The bride's ring was beautiful—shallow grooves decorating the surface of the band as slender, curved silver wove gently around a glowing sapphire. Three pale blue diamonds followed the silver curve, each slightly larger than the last. The groom's ring lacked the jewels featured on the complimentary band but had a flare of elegance to it with the same shallow grooves. "This is one of the more popular designs of one of our jewelers," Featherpelt explained, "its delicate grooves and its beautiful gemstone make it a very valuable pair."

"The cost?"

"Its original price is one reba, but since you two seem to be friends of Leafpool, I'll drop the price down to seven vennas." The brunette flinched inwardly at the dramatic drop of price. Even with the most frequent and regular customers at the Red Sapphire didn't receive such a large discount. _What are you plotting, Featherpelt?_

"It is beautiful," Feathertail murmured softly, a small frown decorating her face. Leafpool saw the telltale signs of a rejection as the blond man's smile grew stiffer. "But I think it's too expensive." _Even after that outrageous discount?_ The brunette thought wildly. _Feathertail, you and Crowfeather belong to two of the richest houses in the Empire. How in the world can this be too expensive for someone—especially you?_ Leafpool knew she was putting out unnecessary judgment, but there was a crack in Feathertail's façade. Waves of uneasiness radiated off of her as if she didn't want to be here. _But why? She should be happy—her wedding's just around the corner. Shouldn't she be the happiest one in this shop?_

"Why don't we get these ones instead?" The Riverside aristocrat pointed to a pair of golden rings, the bride's ring decorated with a glittering emerald. They were amazingly dull compared the pair that Featherpelt had suggested, but what concerned Leafpool most was that the ring wouldn't be complimentary to Feathertail's appearance. Her blue eyes would contrast with the green gemstone and her silver hair wouldn't necessarily compliment the golden hue of the bands. It wouldn't look well with Crowfeather either, with his dark hair and icy blue eyes. As the brunette continued to look at the pair of emerald rings, she couldn't comprehend why Feathertail insisted on this pair in particular. The silver ones Featherpelt offered would suit the couple much better.

"A wonderful choice as well." Leafpool tried not to wince at the dull, fake sound of Featherpelt's voice. He looked determined not to lose another sale, but there was an uncomfortable gleam in his blue eyes. It would damage the shop's reputation if anyone was to criticize the choice of rings. After all, it would be on the shopkeeper's head not to encourage the ring set that best complimented the bride and groom. _Why of all days did Whiteear have to step out?_ The brunette thought helplessly. "Five vennas for that set."

"Feathertail?" Crowfeather murmured, inclining his head toward his fiancée.

"I think that's the one," the blue-eyed girl affirmed, looking strangely satisfied with her choice. A conflicted emotion crossed her betrothed's eyes and he glanced back at the silver rings, as if on the verge of overriding her decision. _So I'm not the only one who's bothered._ Crowfeather looked as if he was about to say something, but he quickly turned his head away as Featherpelt slowly began wrapping the emerald rings. Feathertail smiled warmly at Leafpool, her blue eyes disarming as they caught her gaze. "It was nice to see you again," she said cheerily. "We'll send over news about the date and destination of the wedding soon."

With a jolt, Leafpool realized that she hadn't offered any assistance in choosing a ring. Cheeks flaming with embarrassment, she forced a mechanical smile onto her face. "That sounds great," she replied stiffly as Featherpelt handed Crowfeather the rings. Casually, the Ebenwing aristocrat wrapped an arm around his fiancée before leaving the shop, his blue eyes burning across Leafpool's face as they exited. It wasn't until the door closed behind the two that Featherpelt began to act.

"—Come with me." He grabbed the brunette roughly and dragged her to the back of the shop. Dazed, Leafpool allowed him to manhandle her until they were standing by the storage. He turned his piercing gaze on her, a glimmer of irritation in his pale blue eyes. "Speak." He grit out, putting his hands on his hips. She blinked at him for a second before everything came pouring out.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed. All she could remember was crying and blabbering half-coherently while Featherpelt nodded at her. At the very end of it all, she was wrapped in his arms, his hand running up and down her back soothingly. He cooed softly to her as her sniffles slowly faded away and she was left feeling warm, numb, and stuffy. It was only after she had quieted that he allowed her to pull away and blow her nose.

Leafpool rubbed angrily at her swelling eyes, knowing there was little she could do to hide that she was crying from Cinderpelt. Her eyes would stay red for hours even if she had only cried a few tears. Just as she reached up to rub at them again, Featherpelt's hands caught hers and she looked up blearily at him. " _Ma chérie_ ," he murmured softly, tracing his thumb under her eyes gently, "you have suffered for a long time." His gaze hardened slightly as he gazed at her. "You should've spoken to Cinderpelt first," he scolded lightly. "After all, she is a Starreign doctor. You should've told her about those dreams first."

 _Ah,_ Leafpool thought distractedly, _I told him about Spottedleaf._ She chuckled bitterly at herself. _What else did I spill out?_ "But I was not aware of your conflict with the young…Crowfeather. Had I known…I would not have given them such a generous discount." He clicked his tongue irritably.

"They didn't buy the ring anyway," Leafpool chuckled, feeling her mood lift already. It was amazing how at ease she felt with Featherpelt. When he cupped her cheek, she leaned into his hand, reveling at how comforting his touch was. His cool fingertips tended to her swollen eyelids, soothing them with fleeting strokes. She frowned disappointedly when he pulled away, but it was quickly replaced with curiosity when he began rummaging through a small drawer. He turned back to her with a small box, offering to her shyly.

"What's this? A sympathy gift?" She teased lightly.

"It's actually a late birthday present," he admitted with a small blush on his cheeks. "I hadn't finished it in time." She laughed at the small grumble in his voice and gently lifted the cover to uncover a beautiful bracelet. Her breath caught slightly at the array of tiny brown and gold topazes hanging from the silver chain. There were small intricate designs weaved around each jewel, the thin metal glistening in the light. _This must've taken forever,_ she thought disbelievingly.

"Featherpelt, I…" She trailed off when he lifted a hand to silence her.

"Do you remember that necklace you bought seven months ago?" He asked her gently.

"Yes, I—" _I wear it all the time._ It was her go-to piece of jewelry, both at social gatherings or dinner parties. She had received several compliments regarding how well it worked with her eyes. It was her treasure.

"It was the first piece I've ever sold," he whispered. Leafpool cocked her head to the side in confusion. _First piece?_ She echoed. _But he so experienced with handling customers…_ then it clicked. Her jaw dropped at she stared at him, overwhelmed by surprise. He smiled tenderly at her, his eyes glowing with appreciation. "The way you looked at it made me feel so…loved. So wanted." His eyes fluttered shut and Leafpool realized he was reliving the memory. "It's hard for artists to come out with art that people are actually willing to buy," he murmured. "Many people give up before anyone really takes a good look at their work. I thought I was never going to have a piece of mine sold. After all, the garnet you bought was the fifth piece of jewelry that Whiteear was able to sell of his own collection—and he's been in this business for twenty years.

"I wanted to make a complimentary piece to the necklace," he continued. "When I was trying to decide on what jewel to use, I thought of your eyes." He gazed at her thoughtfully. "But then I realized that topaz fit you best."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just as there is the language of wine, flowers, and birds, there's a language to gemstones. The central message to Topaz is loyalty and success. The gold topaz in particular means self-power and confidence," he told her as he slipped the bracelet from its case and carefully clasped it around Leafpool's wrist. "It is a jewel of elegance and warmth." He chuckled softly as he tapped one of the tiny topaz stones. "Topaz is also the jewel of true love. I hope you will find the one you are destined for." He paused before adding, "In the country of Exotikam, they speak of a red string of fate. Pretend that these jewels will act the same way their strings do."

"Thank you, Featherpelt." Leafpool gazed tenderly at the delicate silver chain. "I'll treasure it." The two of them stood in a comfortable silence before she thought back to the rings on display. "What does an emerald mean?" A conflicted look crossed the blond man's face, but he answered her nonetheless.

"It's long been considered a symbol of hope and the perseveration of love." He paused before adding, "I'm sorry, Leafpool."

"No, it's fine." She shook her head bitterly. She should've expected this of a stone commonly used on wedding rings. "I shouldn't concern myself with their affairs. I'm sure my feelings will pass soon."

"What is so easily said is not so easily done," Featherpelt countered half-heartedly. "The feelings of the heart cannot be so easily forgotten. Nurture this wound, Leafpool. Experience will make future look more kindly upon you."

Third Person – Featherpelt

He wiped down the counters, exhausted by the long day of work. Tiredly straightening up certain parts of the shop and checking to see that all the jewels were locked away in the storage, he longed for the soft mattress that awaited him. Apprenticeship with Whiteear meant that he would have to stay with the man for as long as he worked under him. After inspecting the counters again, he realized there were a few areas in the front that needed attention. Sighing, he mentally cursed the woman who brought her overly-curious six-year-old into the shop to look for jewelry.

As he tended to the glass, he thought back to today's events. Leafpool had always looked like she had something to say, but just as she gathered enough courage to do so they had been unfortunately interrupted by two aristocrats. Featherpelt stiffened when he remembered how coldly he had been treated by Crowfeather. A part of him knew that he was growing too accustomed to how kind Cinderpelt and Leafpool were, but it had been a slap to the face when the blue-eyed boy regarded him coolly. For the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of rage at the look of superiority in the aristocrat's posture. _He will never understand the hardships of being raised in a home that does not flourish with wealth_ , Featherpelt thought bitterly.

It wasn't only the boy who unnerved him. Feathertail, the aristocratic female, seemed suspiciously rehearsed in her movements and actions. The first thing that alarmed Featherpelt about the couple was their obvious difference in age. The female aristocrat looked as if she was in her twenties while Crowfeather seemed significantly younger. _It may just be an aristocratic thing—marrying people several years older than you_ , the blond man decided, brushing aside the thought. Regardless, she had worn a façade into the Red Sapphire; something that had most definitely did not go unnoticed by him.

His first clue was how cheerily she had greeted Leafpool. It was then that her smile strained with the weight of a silent burden. Next was when she rejected his choice of rings. With eight odd years tucked under his belt with experience in choosing rings for couples, Featherpelt had carefully selected the pair based on the appearance of the two aristocrats. The sapphire complimented her blue eyes while the silver ring worked wonders with Crowfeather's dark hair. But instead, she had selected a gaudy emerald-and-gold ring that was neither unique nor flattering. Her rejection was like someone had thrown a bucket of water at Featherpelt. It was an insult to his craft as a jeweler.

The last bit was how uncomfortable with the entire situation the silver-haired aristocrat had been. It was unusual for a woman, who was purchasing her own wedding ring, to be so rushed and nervous. Most women would hover for hours over prospective jewels, whining about either the extravagance, price, or whether it complimented their appearance. Feathertail, on the other hand, looked as if she wanted the process to be finished as soon as possible. _But why? Women should not rush over things like this._ After working with Whiteear for many years, Featherpelt learned that rushing the process often led to unhappy couples and faulty marriages.

A sharp knocking on the door startled him from his thoughts. Frowning, he squinted at the dark figure through the glass. It was rare to have customers this late—especially after closing time. Stepping closer, he felt his blood run cold when he recognized the person behind the door. _That boy…_ Why had he come back? Did he have second thoughts about the ring his fiancée chose? Perhaps he wanted to trade them for the rings that were original suggested? _I'll swap them, but he'll have to pay the full price for those silver rings_ , Featherpelt huffed, _either that, or I'll tell him to come back tomorrow. We are_ closed.

But curiosity quickly overpowered stubbornness and he unlocked the door, watching the boy warily as he stepped into the store. _I'll see what he has to say for himself,_ the blond man decided, _I can decide whether I want to kick him out afterwards._

"What is your relationship with Leafpool?" _He gets straight to the point, doesn't he?_ Featherpelt was taken aback at the accusatory question, but quickly got over how unexpected it was.

"I'm afraid it's not necessary for me to divulge such _personal_ information like that." He leaned casually against the counter, eyeing the aristocrat warily. He felt a twinge of satisfaction at how Crowfeather had stiffened at the word "personal". "But I have a question for you. Are you locked in an arranged marriage?"

"I'm not required to answer that."

"An eye for an eye," Featherpelt shot back. "I will give you what you want if you fulfill my requirements." The dark-haired man hesitated then, as if tempted to give an answer just to receive one.

"No. I'm marrying Feathertail because I love her. And _you_?"

"How do I say this: Leafpool and I share a deep intimacy for each other," he mused. He felt a stab of interest at the hurt look that flashed through Crowfeather's eyes. _A love triangle?_ Deciding to soldier on to confirm his suspicions, Featherpelt continued. "I've held her in my arms before. She's such a delicate creature—with her silky brown hair and soft skin—" He broke of suddenly as two arms forced him harder against the counter and forced the air out of his lungs.

"That's _enough_ ," the aristocrat hissed, blue eyes blazing. "You've contaminated her. How can you live so freely knowing that you _touched_ an innocent girl?" He pushed Featherpelt harder against the glass, ignoring his wince of pain as the countertop dug into his spine. "On top of that, she is the daughter of one of the most influential aristocrats in the entire Empire. Have you no shame?"

"No more than the child who claims he knows love," the blond man grit back.

"I love Feathertail!" Crowfeather growled.

"Then why are you here?" Both men froze and turned to see Whiteear leaning against the doorframe. A displeased glint flashed in his green eyes as he regarded the aristocrat.

"I…I care for Leafpool, that's all," the blue-eyed teenager defended himself, pulling away from Featherpelt with a prideful sniff. "I can't fear for one of my friends?"

"The way you greeted Leafpool today was not the way you greet a friend," the blond man snorted. "Do you treat your friends like strangers? And why would strangers care so much for one another?" He hid his shock when a fist curled up into the collar of his shirt and brought him down to level with Crowfeather's icy eyes.

" _We are not strangers_ ," he spat out coldly. "We are _friends_."

"Ordinary friends would not go out of their way to investigate the intentions of a lover," Featherpelt hissed. "What if I told you I was planning to marry her?" He was lying through his teeth, but he knew that he had to push the aristocrat harder if he wanted an answer.

"She's too young for marriage!" The dark-haired teenager snapped.

"And what makes you think you aren't?" Crowfeather froze at the icy tone in Featherpelt's voice. "If you want me to marry her when she is of age, why won't you do the same? Are you nothing more than a hypocrite, a child who argues to be a man when every word he states is laced with naivety and immaturity?"

" _You take that back_ ," the aristocrat snarled, pushing the blond man against the counter again.

"Enough!" Again, Whiteear intervened. He looked coldly at Crowfeather. "If you wish to continue this conversation, take it out of the shop. We are currently _closed_." The two of them stared at each other for a few moments before the blue-eyed teenager tore his gaze away.

"I'm leaving," he growled, turning sharply on his heel. "Don't expect me to be back." The door slammed shut behind him and Featherpelt straightened, rubbing angrily at his throbbing back. _Stupid scrawny kid. Why can't you be as weak as you look?_ Sending one last glare after the retreating figure, he felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him as Whiteear stepped closer to him.

"What's all this about?"

"When you stepped out this afternoon, _he_ ," Featherpelt nodded in the direction that Crowfeather had disappeared, "and his fiancée came to our shop to look for rings. They seemed to know Leafpool and were thinking of purchasing wedding rings. I offered them one of our best rings for a very low price because of their connections to Leafpool, but the woman shot me down and chose a gaudy ring that didn't compliment her or her partner in any way." He hesitated before adding, "The next bit about Leafpool is not my secret to tell, but when he stormed in just now, he demanded to know about my relationship with her. I egged him on by lying about the intimacy of my relationship with Leafpool and that's when you stepped in.

"Please don't tell Cinderpelt about this," the blond man pleaded a few seconds later. "It would only distress Leafpool further."

"That decision is mine to make," Whiteear reminded him. "But perhaps our lovely friend's life is much darker than we initially presumed.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Third Person – Cinderpelt

She hummed in amusement, earning a curious look from Leafpool as the smoky-haired woman rifled through the shelves. The brunette had stumbled on the blue-eyed woman when she came into the library to work on her sketches. From there on, the two women had worked separately, tending to their separate needs.

Astertail's shy, flushed face flickered through Cinderpelt's mind again and she chuckled, earning another glance from her student. Yesterday, one of the maids had been dared by her friends to flirt with the groomsman. The maid spent the entire day flattering the brunet and brushing up against him whenever he passed. The pair had earned quite a few bemused looks from the aristocrats, who knew very little of the situation. Cinderpelt herself had only stumbled across the true nature of this flirtation when one of the maid's friends was gossiping in the hallway. It amused her that they had enough frivolity to tease the groomsman to a stammering mess.

She had to admit, however, that Astertail's chivalry was refreshing and heartwarming. He always looked so pleased whenever she thanked him for his willingness to drive Leafpool to and from Lilystone. It seemed that the smallest things could bring happiness to the brunet, a feat that was extremely rare amongst the people Cinderpelt had grown acquainted to. It was difficult for anyone to stay angry at him, especially when he widened his warm brown eyes and blushed at them. Even the strict head butler had a soft spot for the groomsman, often cracking a small smile whenever he was around.

Although she found herself giving into Featherpelt and Leafpool's insistencies and growing more fond of Astertail with each passing day, a part of her held her back. Despite having passed into a new life where love was not taboo to those who practiced medicine, Cinderpelt still felt obligated to follow the rules established for medicine cats. She still felt as if love stood as an entity that she would never acquire due to her status and practice. She still felt as if she was cheated of love—something that every medicine cat experienced in his or her lifetime. Some had even fallen prey to their desires—Yellowfang and Leafpool—and had paid a heavy price for their "wrongs".

 _Is it still wrong to fall in love now?_ Similar to how she had died as a cat, Yellowfang had passed away after an arsonist had succeeded in burning down one of Herobexy's mansions. Leafpool had yet to feel the pull of her past affections and Spottedleaf had fallen prey to her sentiments. All around her, she saw former medicine cats struggling to make the change into a society where love wasn't illegal. Most of the doctors who weren't connected to Starreign had an easier time integrating into love, but mediators like Littlecloud, Mudfur, and Cinderpelt herself were finding it difficult to take part in or initiate romantic appeals.

But Astertail's shy tendencies and clumsy actions were cutting through Cinderpelt's reluctance like a knife. Each time he gave her a bashful smile, each time he glanced longingly in her direction, each time she saw how pleased he was whenever she praised him, she found herself wanting to be a part of something _more_. She wanted to be more than just a mentor. She wanted to be more than just a doctor. She wanted more than just respected. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to raise a family. She wanted _to be loved._

Maybe things would've been different if she wasn't so scared of the past. But every time Cinderpelt felt a slight tug toward Astertail, her damaged leg would cramp up immediately and she would be reminded of the monster that towered over her and disabled her for life. She could see the parallels between her past life and the one she led now—her smashed leg had taken away her future as a cat and there was no doubt that it would take away her future now as a human. But the question that spoke louder than the suspicious parallels and the fleeting moments of _déjà vu_ was _'who would ever fall in love with such a broken body?'_

That's what she was. Broken. Burdened with the secret of being a mediator, restricted by the limits of her deformed leg, haunted by the past that seemed to engulf more and more of her future—Cinderpelt was like the shattered porcelain doll on the floor—unintentionally dropped and hazardously repaired for second-hand use. And if to add onto her towering, _suffocating_ list of responsibilities, she knew that Leafpool was carefully following in her footsteps. The expectations of leading someone to a place she had never been before was overwhelming. _Leafpool deserves more than anyone to be happy_ , Cinderpelt thought, remembering the bitter, suffering-rich life the brunette had led. Curiously enough, a small voice in the back of her head gently reminded her, _but so do you._

Rubbing down her mare, Cinderpelt couldn't help the gentle smile that touched her lips as she ran her hands down the horse's flank. The return to horseback riding had been terrifying at first when the memories of having her leg smashed to bits was still fresh in her mind, but Firestar had eventually coaxed her into riding again. _Thank Starreign he did that_ , she thought appreciatively as her mare pressed her nose against her.

Satisfied, the blue-eyed woman led her horse into the stables, pleasantly surprised to see that Astertail was filling up the trough with an oat mix. _Always going out of his way to help others_ , she thought bemusedly. He looked up as she approached, a startled blush making its way across his cheeks. "Cinderpelt! I saw Mist was out and I just thought…" He trailed off, glancing uneasily at the half-filled trough.

"Thank you," she replied calmly, leading her mare further into the stables. "She deserves a nice, hearty meal after a good ride." Astertail seemed to relax significantly as the horse approached him. The gray mare pushed her nose against his cheek, huffing fondly as he stroked her cheek. After a few moments, she began nosing around his pockets, tail swishing from side to side. Laughing, the brunet gently pushed her aside, earning a curious look from Cinderpelt. It was the first time she had heard such a carefree laugh from the groomsman.

The world seemed to disappear around Astertail as he worked with Mist. The blue-eyed aristocrat felt a wave of newfound respect swell in her chest as she watched the two of them. The way the brunet tended to her mare was the same way she tended to her patients. "Oh no you don't, Mist," he cooed affectionately, shoving the mare's muzzle away from his pockets. "Dessert comes _after_ your meal. I'll come back with your sugar cubes and apples later." The horse huffed irritably in his face, but nuzzled him regardless. She calmly walked into her stall, throwing a lazy look over her shoulder as Astertail gently closed the door behind her.

Cinderpelt felt a twinge of disappointment when the brunet's broad grin faded slightly as he turned to her. Instead, it was quickly replaced with a blush. "I'm sorry, I just ignored you there," he stammered.

"No problem." She smiled at him. "I'm glad to see that my horse is well taken care of."

"Only the best, ma'am." The boyish grin was back, this time accompanied by its own, pleased flush. The conversation quickly faded into an awkward silence and Cinderpelt grew more and more aware of Astertail's nervous movements. Deciding that it was time to leave, she nodded at the groomsman.

"Well, I suppose I'll be off," she announced, turning to the stable doors. "I guess I'll see you arou—"

"Wouldyouliketohaveteawithme?" She froze and blinked at him dazedly.

"E-excuse me?" Astertail's face was beet red as he shyly raised his honey-brown eyes to meet hers.

"Would you like to have tea with me?" He repeated quietly. Cinderpelt stared at him for a few long moments, replaying the question repeatedly in her head. Just as he was about to open his mouth to dismiss the offer, the words clicked and she gave him a small smile.

"That would be wonderful," she murmured.

Third Person – Leafpool

After finishing her sketches for the day, Leafpool had wandered out of library in search of Squirrelflight. She eventually found her sister sitting by the river, giving Ashfur half-interested glances as he leaned up against the tree she was sitting at. When the redhead caught sight of the brunette, a look of relief crossed her face and she waved Leafpool over. "Leafa! You done with your studies today?"

"Today was sort of a relaxation day," she informed Squirrelflight as she knelt down beside her sister. "Good afternoon, Ashfur." She nodded to the blue-eyed aristocrat.

"Good afternoon, Leafpool," he replied pleasantly. He quickly turned his attention to Squirrelflight, who rolled her eyes inconspicuously at the brunette. Giving her sister a wry smile, Leafpool steeled herself for Ashfur's rambles as she nestled into Squirrelflight's side. "…as I was saying, I think bloodhounds are the best hunting dogs around. They have a great sense of smell and they're loud enough to lead their masters to their game."

"The problem is if they're too noisy," Squirrelflight sighed. "They'll scare off all the rest of the game and then you'll left with one lousy bird that couldn't get away in time."

"Well I'm sure that you can train them to be a little more obedient," he defended himself lightly. "What do you think, Leafpool?"

"I don't know much about hunting," she replied, throwing him a hesitant smile. "But I know father likes to use red hounds," she added quickly when the gray-haired aristocrat deflated slightly.

"Red hounds?" He perked up immediately at her words. "But their coloring could give them away before they can even spot the game."

"My hair is red," Squirrelflight cut in scathingly. "Are you saying that my hair color would give me out as well?" She turned her poisonous green eyes onto Ashfur. "Mind you, my papa's an excellent hunter—and his hair is redder than mine!" The gray-haired man seemed taken aback by Squirrelflight's outburst and recoiled from her slightly.

"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right," he apologized quickly, appeasing the redhead before her anger could settle. "I didn't mean to insult you." Leafpool watched as her sister's shoulders sagged in defeat, a disappointed glimmer flickering through her eyes. Smiling sympathetically, the brunette gently leaned onto her sister.

If it were Brambleclaw, he would've persisted in the argument. It was obvious that the redhead missed her old arguing partner and the fact that he was currently the focus of her affections mad e her miss him all the more. But as dark-haired brunet's visits have been less frequent for the past few weeks, Squirrelflight's schedule became punctuated with numerous "coincidental encounters" with Ashfur. She wasn't quite rude enough to tell the blue-eyed aristocrat to back off, but her pride wouldn't allow her to plead Brambleclaw to come over.

"It's alright," she muttered, ignoring the hopeful light in Ashfur's eyes. "Just don't do that again." Rising to her feet, she gently brushed off the back of her trousers before heading back to the manor. The blue-eyed man took a step toward her retreating figure, but held himself back. He glanced at Leafpool in confusion, who smiled at him with a shrug.

Trying to offer up an excuse to her sister's drastic shift in mood, Leafpool murmured, "I think she's just tired."

"Of course." He didn't look particularly convinced by her words, but he accepted them nonetheless. Giving her a brief, friendly smile, Ashfur stepped toward the direction of the West Gate. "I'll see you around," he promised before turning away.

 _I'd rather you stay away_ , Leafpool sighed bitterly. She had received a letter from Tawnypelt just this morning regarding the prickly, frustrated airhead more commonly known as her brother. The brunette had complained about how Brambleclaw did nothing but mope and snap at people whenever they voiced their concern for him.

" _He's always looking at the carriages and looks like he's going to board one and ride as fast as he can over to where your sister is, but BAM! Next second he's scowling and grumbling as he leaves the servants confused as to whether they should_ actually _prepare the carriage for him. I swear to Starreign—my brother is changing moods as frequently as a landed fish thrashes for water!_ " Tawnypelt's letter was full of snippets like this, complaining mostly about her brother while throwing in a question or two about Squirrelflight's antics. Leafpool felt guilty for going behind her sister's back, but the Herobexy aristocrat quickly convinced her it was for a greater good.

Today's letter also brought some startling news. " _Can you believe that Crowfeather and Feathertail are pushing back their wedding? For the past few weeks' it's been 'let's get this wedding started as soon as humanly possible' and 'I want to get married by the end of spring' and then suddenly they're announcing that they'll put it on hold until Crowfeather becomes of age. They haven't made clear whose idea it was, but I have a feeling that it was Feathertail. They had a pretty rough courting, so I'm guessing she wanted to slow down for a more romantic feel._ "

Although she felt an overwhelming amount of confusion regarding the wedding, a part of her was relieved that Crowfeather wasn't getting married just yet. " _According to Stormfur, Graystripe and Crowfeather seemed to make some sort of agreement on his engagement to Feathertail. It was something along the lines of 'let me get engaged with your daughter before anyone else can steal me away'. It sounded pretty crazy to me when he first told me about it, but then I remembered that Crowfeather's been chasing after Feathertail ever since we were kids. I think it's a little sweet how in love he is._ " Leafpool's heart had throbbed painfully at these words, but she had quickly pushed them aside before they could settle.

" _Anyway, Feathertail showed me the rings she was being married in. Just between you and me, I don't think they're the best fit for her and Crowfeather, but I guess whatever makes her happy is enough to keep the engagement going._ " It was relieving to know that she and Featherpelt weren't the only ones who were uncomfortable with Feathertail's choice of jewelry. It could be argued that her sense of fashion could be lacking, but with the careful extravagance of the silver-haired aristocrat's clothes and the house of Riverside's reputation for being talented artisans, it was highly unlikely that that theory was true.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Leafpool pulled herself out of her thoughts and headed back into the manor. Perhaps she would find solace there, amongst familiar faces and warm voices.

 _"You are troubled," Bluestar murmured worriedly when Leafpool stirred, easing into the dreamscape. Her blue eyes flickered with concern. "Is it of your sister?"_

 _"I would hardly think she would come to us about Crowfeather," Yellowfang snorted, whiskers twitching in amusement when the blue she-cat shot her a half-hearted glare. "Ashfur's causing trouble for Brambleclaw now, isn't he?" An exasperated look crossed her face. "Both of them have always been so stubborn—Brambleclaw in particular."_

 _"Squirrelflight's been feeling uneasy," Leafpool murmured, noticing the wary look the two Starreign cats shared. A nervous bubble rose inside of her, but she ignored it as she continued, "she's afraid that her feelings are reciprocated. The rest of us know that Brambleclaw still isn't sure where he stands right now, but…it's causing a lot more trouble than I initially expected."_

 _"Toms," the gray she-cat muttered irritably, earning a bemused glance from Bluestar._

 _"Brambleclaw has a lot of reason to be wary of love," the blue-eyed cat mused. "He has lost both parents—one to selfishness and the other to greed."_

 _Leafpool felt a stab of sympathy for the brown tom. It had been a scandalous outrage when Tigerstar lashed out at Bluestar, hoping to steal her position as head of Herobexy. She could understand his desperation for it—he was popular amongst the youth, but the older generation was extremely wary of him. In addition to that, there were many other appealing candidates for the head and Bluestar had yet to reach the age to pass her position onto a successor. Before long, the elders' disapproving whispers had driven Tigerstar to near insanity, uprooting all reason and driving him to attack Bluestar in a fit of rage._

 _He had claimed her life then, taking away the lives of several others when they tried to restrain him. It was a massacre—four Herobexy and two visiting Riverside aristocrats were killed in the fray. In his fit of rage, Tigerstar had ripped the life of Brindleface away from her four children—one of which being Cloudtail, Firestar's nephew. When he had dragged down Bluestar, Stonefur and Oakheart had lost their lives in their attempts to immobilize him. Whitestorm and Runningwind were the last of the massacre, but a suicide note from Darkstripe had revealed that the murderer was also responsible for Swiftpaw and Redtail's deaths._

 _The entire house was scandalized. Immediate orders from the capital were given to execute Tigerstar before he caused any more damage. When Goldenflower had gone to his room with her children to pay her last respects to her corrupted husband, he had taken her captive, threatening her with a jagged shard of glass he had hidden in his clothes. It had taken a total of five minutes for the Herobexy knight force to arrive, and just as the first arrow pierced Tigerstar's body, he thrust the glass into his wife's throat and Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt witness the simultaneous murder of mother and the last wicked gleam fade from their father's eyes._

 _There had been a total of eight deaths in total—seven victims and one murderer. There was news that the house of Herobexy would never be seen the same way after this scandal, and in many ways this was true. However, with time, the condescending whispers of the peasants and other nobles transitioned to rain hellfire onto Tigerstar's remaining "bastard children" before fading into nothingness. Both Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt carried the scars of their past, often flinching at the mention of their mother's name and growling at any comment regarding their "father"._

 _Brambleclaw had a gaping, tender wound torn into his heart. It had been just recently that two new aristocrats had been found in the midst of peasantry before their mother admitted that their father was none other than the infamous Tigerstar. Tawnypelt had been the first to recover from the news, choosing to depend on her ties to the house of Shadowrim while Brambleclaw secluded himself in his room, worrying everyone in his group of friends._

 _"I think Squirrelflight is upset with Brambleclaw's friendship with Hawkfrost," Leafpool murmured after a few moments of silence. "She's been spending more and more time with Ashfur because she knows that Brambleclaw can barely stand him, but she's been acting strangely around him lately." Her mind flickered back to Squirrelflight's obvious discomfort in the blue-eyed aristocrat's presence. "He's been pushing himself onto her a lot more than he used to."_

 _"Ashfur faces similar pains to those of Brambleclaw's," Bluestar replied. "He has lost both his parents to Tigerstar's greed."_

 _"He loved too much," Yellowfang muttered. Leafpool's ear twitched in confusion at the gray she-cat's words, but they obviously unnerved Bluestar in some manner._

 _"I apologize, Leafpool," the blue she-cat rumbled after a few tense seconds. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave us for tonight. Yellowfang and I have matters to tend to."_

 _"I'm perfectly content with resting here for the rest of the day," the amber-eyed cat shot back, unfazed by the harshness of Bluestar's glare. Feeling her pelt prickle uncomfortably at the static in the air, Leafpool hastily bid farewell to both cats before rushing out of the clearing, effectively forcing herself out of the dream and back into reality._

Third Person – Omniscient

 _"What are you thinking?" Bluestar snarled, stalking over to Yellowfang. The gray she-cat blinked at her coolly, the twitch of her tail tip giving away her discomfort. "The past is not to be revealed to those who are not mediators!"_

 _"Leafpool has every ability and_ right _to become a mediator," Yellowfang shot back, rising to her paws. "Just watch—Littlecloud or one of the other mediators is going to let information of that position slip and then she'll know. Then she'll_ want _to become a mediator. We were given a second life to live to the fullest, Bluestar," she growled softly, "what are you doing—keeping her from everything she can be?"_

 _"You don't understand! Her past is something that should never be repeated!" The blue-eyed cat snapped._

 _"Just because we know doesn't mean that we'll repeat it."_

 _"Every action we make is influenced by our past." Bluestar stepped forward until she was invading Yellowfang's space, face hovering inches away from the older she-cat. "I know you've had your hard times and I've lost my kits just as you've lost yours. But Leafpool was condemned by_ everyone _around her, hated by the cats she loved most, and she thought_ she _was the reason that everyone was suffering! She blames Cinderpelt's death on herself, her kits hating her on herself, Bramblecl—Bramblestar and Squirrelflight's ruined relationship on herself—she was broken before and I have no interest in seeing her broken again!"_

 _"You can't keep someone's past from them," Yellowfang hissed. "That's not morally correct!"_

 _"Sometimes you lie to do the right thing," Bluestar grit out._

 _"Is it the right thing?"_

 _"I'm giving her a chance to lead a new life," she spat out. "I'm giving her a life where she'll be free from the shadows of the past—free from all the things that caused her to suffer in the first place!"_

 _"That's where you're wrong," Yellowfang whispered coldly. "I understand the reasons behind your concern, Bluestar, but Leafpool is not to be coddled and sheltered like you want her to be. Life is worthless if there is no struggle. Life is meaningless if there is no truth. Life will become a thundercloud hanging over her like a plague until one day the truth strikes her like lightning!" She paused, composing herself before continuing in a calmer voice. "Leafpool needs to know of the past. She can't be sheltered from it and we have no right to keep it from her."_

 _The blue-eyed she-cat stared at her for a few minutes before dropping her head in defeat. "Out of all the cats in the world—why her?" Bluestar choked out._

 _"She loved too much," Yellowfang sighed. "The best of us always do." She paused, throwing a warning look over her shoulder at a faraway patch of grass. "As do others," she growled menacingly as she gazed into the glowing amber eyes that peeked through the green blades, "who aren't the best." Bluestar raised her head and gazed over Yellowfang's shoulder curiously, but the eavesdropper had already slipped away, disappearing in the dappled forest as they carried the secrets of the conversation into their hearts._

Third Person – Featherpelt

He couldn't deny the smug feeling filling the corners of his body when he saw a wary, uncertain Crowfeather hovering around the front of the shop. It had taken the boy several months to gather his wits and return to the very shop he said he wouldn't. Whiteear caught his eye and raised an eyebrow when he caught a glimpse of the wavering aristocrat through the window. "Don't let it get to your head," the shopkeeper warned when Featherpelt couldn't keep his know-it-all smirk in. "He may be here about the rings."

 _Well I couldn't give two craps about the rings_. It was a lie of course—he cared dearly about the rings. Any jeweler would treat his rings the same, regardless of whether he liked the person he sold them to or not. "But of course." Nodding his head to Whiteear, Featherpelt quietly slipped his messenger pack over his head, settling the strap across his torso securely. "I'll run a few errands while I'm out," he told his mentor when the white-haired man glanced curiously at him. "Is there anything you need—or fancy?"

"Drop by Swanpelt's bakery and pick up some bread," the shopkeeper replied monotonously. Featherpelt gave a knowing look to the green-eyed man and Whiteear sighed before grumbling, "And pick up a few treats for me. You know which ones." Satisfied, the blond man nodded at his mentor before casually leaving the shop, plastering a look of surprise on his face when Crowfeather whirled around to see him.

" _Mon dieu_ , Crowfeather, what are you doing here?" Patting himself on the back for his excellent acting skills, he hid his amusement at the flustered look the aristocrat adopted. "Are there any complications regarding the rings?"

"Rings? No, the rings are fine." The dark-haired teenager seemed thoroughly confused by Featherpelt's words, but brushed it off quickly.

"Is that so? Then I shall be on my way." Tilting his head slightly, he gave Crowfeather a small bow before turning his attention to the street signs around him. He could almost feel the teenager's hesitancy and a small smile crossed Featherpelt's face knowingly—it would be some time before the aristocrat would speak up, but it wouldn't seem to take long.

"I thought about what you said," Crowfeather blurted out. Featherpelt, just to humor the boy, threw a half-interested look over his shoulder. "You…were right. I shouldn't be criticizing your desire to marry Leafpool when I'm about to marry Feathertail myself. You two should be free to love, as is."

These weren't the words he had been expecting. Deciding to egg the teenager on, the blond man turned back to the aristocrat and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, Leafpool and I aren't getting married," he replied smoothly. "In fact, we've never been in love at all."

" _What?_ " The look on Crowfeather's face was priceless.

"I heard you postponed your wedding for a few more months—more like two years," the jeweler prattled on, blue eyes watching the aristocrat warily. "Why change your mind so suddenly? Weren't you going to hold the marriage earlier—isn't that what your dear fiancée wanted?"

"F-Feathertail had no objections to my proposition to postpone it," the teenager spluttered, still stunned by Featherpelt's earlier words. _Oh?_ The blond man's eyes narrowed slightly. _Why would a woman so rushed to get married be so willing to place it on hiatus?_ "And what's this about not being married to Leafpool?" Realization crossed Crowfeather's face. "You tricked me," he accused, pointing a finger at the jeweler.

"Didn't your mother tell you it was impolite to point?" Featherpelt snipped mildly. Caught off guard, the blue-eyed aristocrat merely stared at him. "Anyway, why are you so upset that I lied? They were merely words spoken in the heat of the moment."

" _Because otherwise I wouldn't have postponed my wedding!_ "

"Then why didn't you? You could've tested to see whether I was actually going to marry Leafpool or not." Featherpelt crossed his arms around his chest. "If you're so in love with your fiancée as you say you are, why couldn't you have just married her and done away with Leafpool? She is none of your concern."

"She's my friend," Crowfeather protested. "I…I care for her."

"Is that so?" The blond man cocked his head slightly at the aristocrat. "I may not be engaged to Leafpool or participating in a romantic relationship with her, but she does confide in me frequently. You two aren't close. In fact, she hesitated to even call you a friend." A flash of pain flickered through Crowfeather's eyes. "Now why is that? Why do you call her a friend while she only knows you as a familiar acquaintance?"

"I…we're friends," the boy murmured distraughtly. He turned his blue eyes onto Featherpelt, looking thoroughly lost. "Why…why would she say that? Even though we care for each other—"

"I'm afraid you'll have to rethink in what way you care for her before I can answer that question for you," Featherpelt cut him off quickly. "When you know what truly lies in your heart and whose face truly lingers in your dreams…" He turned away from the aristocrat, casting one last glance over his shoulder. "…feel free to find me at the Red Sapphire."

The streets were more crowded than usual. Featherpelt strained to remember if there was any particular event that was happening in the plaza. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been sandwiched between so many people. He was pushed and shoved in all directions as he struggled to return to the shop, arms wrapped around Whiteear's precious baked goods. It would be a struggle to make it through the crowds without squishing the pastries—and beside, the shopkeeper would sympathize with him if he saw the state of the streets—right?

Sighing, Featherpelt wrapped his arms more tightly around himself as he tried to push into the openings in the crowd. It had been rather humid this morning and being flanked by people on all sides made the day all the more uncomfortable for him. Scowling at the sensation of sweat running down his forehead, the blond man shook his head irritably, praying that the liquid wouldn't drip into his eyes. Oh how he hated hot weather.

Someone collided with him and he barely managed to catch the person before they tumbled to the ground. He heard a faint _squelch_ and winced—Whiteear was not going to be pleased with the outcome of his pastries. _I'll have to apologize to him—or at least run back and buy some more_ , Featherpelt sighed, mentally wiping away tears at the thought of spending more of his hard-earned money. Turning his attention to the situation at hand—or rather the girl in his arms—he carefully helped her straighten up. " _Excusez-moi_ , _Madmoiselle_. Are you alright?" The dazed blonde woman blinked blearily at him before taking in a sharp gasp.

"My herbs!" Scattered around Featherpelt's feet were various dried herbs, each threatened by the trampling feet around them. The blonde man dropped down to his knees, quickly scooping up whatever he could. In front of him, the mystery woman did the same, wincing as heels and shoes stepped on and grazed her outstretched hands.

 _This just won't do_ , a small voice in the back of Featherpelt's mind tut-tutted. _She'll drop them again when you try to give her your bundle. You'll have to give her your bag._ Resting the herbs precariously on his knees, Featherpelt quickly pulled the ruined pastries out of his messenger bag and maneuvered the herbs into the pouch. Opening the bag for the girl, he watched her hesitate before she poured her armful into the messenger bag. Straightening up, he carefully tucked whatever was left of the pastries into his jacket as he moved to hand the filled bag to the stranger

"I do apologize, I hadn't been looking—" he broke off, taking in the girl's appearance for the first time. Golden hair cascaded down onto her shoulders, curling around her cheeks and framing her face in gentle waves. Her blue eyes were clear and wide, reminiscent of the sparkling lakes Featherpelt knew growing up. She was beautiful.

Before he knew it, a gentle smile crossed his face as he handed the stranger his bag. For some reason, he had a feeling he would be meeting her again. "Your herbs," he murmured. He felt a shock run up his arms when their fingers brushed and the startled expression on in the girl's eyes told him she had felt it too. " _Adieu_ ," he whispered, brushing past her gently. As he increased the distance between the two of them, he felt her breath linger on his cheek, the softness of her hair brush his neck when she turned her head to watch him leave. It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful.

When he returned to the shop, Whiteear scowled at the state of his pastries, but took them regardless. "How was your walk?" The shopkeeper asked distractedly, grimacing at his soggy custard bun. Featherpelt glanced over his shoulder at his mentor and smiled thoughtfully at him.

" _Magnifique_ ," he whispered as he disappeared into the back of the shop. " _Absolument magnifique_."

 **Actions**


	8. Chapter 8

Third Person – Crowfeather

 _Silky brown hair slipped through his fingers with a flirtatious, seductive air. Bringing the strands to his face, he inhaled the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla, feeling it waft and settle over him like a blanket. He twisted a lock between his fingers, marveling at its silkiness as it coyly untangled itself from him. Taking a gentle handful of it, he tugged, reveling in the soft gasp it drew from its owner. Bemused amber eyes glistened at him, a smile curling at the corner of plush lips at his childish fascination._

 _"Crowfeather," she laughed, a gentle_ what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you _expression crossing her face as she brushed the hair out of his eyes. He snorted at her, blowing half-heartedly at his bangs as they continued to tickle his eyelids. This earned another musical note of laughter from her as she cupped his face, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. He leaned into the touch, rumbling blissfully as he gently pushed her onto her back. Resting his head against her collarbone, he purred like an enormous housecat, pleased with the hands that were leisurely running through his hair._

 _There was no urgency in the body underneath him and it soothed him. There was no one threatening their time together, no one speaking out against their love, no one to take away the connection that they shared. He nuzzled the creamy skin, letting out soft murmurs of encouragement as her fingers left his hair to run down to his shoulders. Behind the trailing fingertips, she left a trail of feathers—tickling his skin to oversensitivity and making him arch after the disappearing fingers. She giggled, the sound resonating through her entire body and filling him with a vibration so pleasuring that he purred again._

 _A fond huff left her as one of her hands rested against the hollow between his shoulder blades—a warm and comforting weight. "You're such a housecat," she tut-tutted affectionately, arching her eyebrow when he lifted his head to give her a lazy smile. He pressed a kiss to the skin he had been lying upon before scooting up to line their bodies together. She shivered at the contact, but gazed tenderly at him as he hovered over her. "Hey you," she whispered, a smile gracing the corners of her lips. There was a simple, unintended affection in the movement and Crowfeather leaned into her, feeling warmth gather in his stomach as her breath fanned over his cheek. He felt a sharp stab of desire as he gazed into her amber eyes, a devious, satisfied feeling rushing through his veins as the tenderness faded into a more heightened rush of emotions._

 _He felt a swell of pride as her breathing grew heavier and her lips parted in anticipation for his kiss. Only he could see her like this—only he could make her like this. But as her gentle fingers came up to trace the gentle curve of his jaw, he was reminded of how he was the same. He was a slave to her touch just as much as she was to his. Letting out a low, lustful rumble, he pressed himself against her, feeling a spark of pleasure ignite between the two of them as she drew in a sharp breath. He leaned in closer, feeling her breath mingle with his as he shortened the distance between them. "I love you, Leafpool."_

It would only be a matter of time before he wore down his floorboards and fell straight through the second floor. Crowfeather's teeth worried at his lip as he paced across the wooden floor, glancing every so often at the brightening sliver of light that cut through his curtains. Marching over to his nightstand, he pulled a velvet box, fingering its top uneasily before revealing the ring below. The green emerald glittered hauntingly at him, the coldness of the metal band cutting into his fingers as a harsh reminder of his responsibilities.

He was disgusted with himself. How could he see Leafpool in such a manner when he had Feathertail resting in the circle of his arms? How could he ever see Leafpool as anything more than a friend? Although he was rather unnerved by the truth, the brunette was very much the shadow of her sister and usually faded away during social gatherings until she was a nothing more but a lingering mark against the wall. Yet at the same time, she was something more than that. How many people knew the sardonic curve of her lips, the way her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks, and the sound of her hushed laughter? How many people had seen her marvel at the smallest details, blush at the slightest compliment, and smile knowingly at the most forgotten of nuances?

Crowfeather knew. In his eyes, she was never a shadow. She always accepted the people around her with open arms, chastising them when they were wrong and listening when they needed it most. He never knew the warmth of Leafpool's gaze until it had turned onto him three years ago, when she found solace in his company as her family was torn before her. Truth be told, he had also taken comfort in her presence, struggling to bear the burden of holding the last of Ebenwing's heritage blood. They were each other's sanctuary, finding peace within one another when they couldn't turn to the warring adults.

From then on, it had been effortless for the two to seek each other out. In the months prior to his engagement, Leafpool would be the first face he would recognize at a social gathering. He always found it was difficult to ignore her, with her wavy brown hair and sparkling amber eyes. To disregard the way she smiled gently at her peers and touched the topaz around her neck. To completely dismiss her small murmurs of surprise at an unexpectedly delicious tidbit or her startled expression whenever she was handed wine by a careless server. It had been an unsettling thought when he realized how many tries he needed to pick Feathertail from the crowds while one glance was all that was necessary for him to find Leafpool.

Perhaps it was his attachment to her that led him to this conflicted state of mind. The blissful, cloud-nine feeling of his engagement had faded quickly when Leafpool began to avoid him during his visits. He had attempted to hold many conversations with her then, but each time he approached her, she withdrew with a small, wistful smile on her lips. Later, with Featherpelt he had felt an absurd amount of rage at the mere suggestion of Leafpool's engagement with a _mere peasant_. All of these feelings were ones of friendship, of someone who cared deeply for another with a similar darkness in his life.

At least, this is what he believed until this morning. When he had first awoken from that hazy, blissful dream, his first thought was not of horror. Instead, a wave of disappointment had washed over him in its place. He wanted to know whether her lips held the same quality of the velveteen softness of rose petals, he wanted to feel her cool fingertips against his skin—he wanted everything. He wanted the events that were to come, the intimacy that was to be shared, and the fulfillment of the lust that kindled between the two of them. Once this feeling faded, however, he was overwhelmed with guilt and disbelief.

He was engaged to Feathertail, for Starreign's sake! But Leafpool's appearance in his dream was making him even more uncertain about his engagement. He had to admit that he and Feathertail were drifting apart since the first mention of their betrothal, a feat that he neither expected nor was pleased with. In an attempt to reassure himself of their connection, he suggested that the two of them place their wedding on hiatus. Feathertail must've loved him very much to accept his engagement proposal in the first place, so it had been a complete shock when she accepted his proposition without batting an eyelash.

"This marriage is impossible," Crowfeather choked out, tossing the ring onto his bed and turning sharply on his heel. It was unnerving how Feathertail had accepted the postponement of their wedding so willingly. Could it be that she found love in the arms of someone else while he fretted and stressed over Featherpelt's criticism of his early engagement? The mere thought of Feathertail slipping through his fingers and running into another's arms was like a knife to his heart. Maybe that was the reason why she could reject him so easily—or maybe she had just had enough of him.

A bitter smile crossed his face as he stepped out of his room. With the way he had been acting lately, he would've been surprised if she hadn't had gotten sick of him yet. _I don't deserve Feathertail_ , he thought as he headed down the hallway. _She shouldn't be forced to stay with me. After all, I'm only hurting her by holding her back._ There was someone else in Feathertail's life and for the first time in his life, Crowfeather felt no anger towards this realization—only a faint sadness for what could've been. It had been his dream as a child to marry her and take over as the head of Ebenwing, but as the years passed, those dreams changed. He didn't to anchor the dying house of Ebenwing to the title of aristocrats and he didn't want to force a woman who didn't love him into marriage. It seemed that time had changed him far beyond what he had originally expected.

He was going to make an enemy of Graystripe with this news. He could only imagine how unbelievable it would be for the aristocrat to promise his daughter to man—a child—for three years before being told that the marriage would be cancelled. Either way, he couldn't bring himself to harm Feathertail any longer. _She deserves to be happy, with someone who can truly love her_ , Crowfeather thought. _I loved her once, but that won't ever be enough._

He took a deep breath as he neared her door, steeling himself to knock. After their engagement, she had moved herself to the Ebenwing manor so whatever proceedings to come after their marriage could be easily taken care of. However, it seemed that the news he was bringing would be far from what she was expecting. _I should inform Graystripe of the matter first_ , he decided. _After all, I ought to explain to him first._ In all honesty, the decision to take the matter to Graystripe first would buy him time to gather his wits in order to face his fiancée. Despite expecting a premarital affair, he was terrified of how Feathertail would react to the news.

"Feathertail?" Crowfeather knocked gently on her door. "Are you in there?"

"Y-yes!" He frowned at the startled quality of her voice and felt his heart sink at the wild shuffling noise behind the door. What was she hiding from him? "What do you need?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I am making a trip to visit your father," he called through the door. He heard hushed voices whisper frantically at each other before Feathertail pulled the door open, looking flustered and nervous. She hadn't opened the door all the way and although he was tempted to peek over her head, he kept his eyes trained on her face.

"What for?" There was a fearful note in her voice as she regarded him. Crowfeather was a bit taken aback at first, but a chilling realization settled over his heart. So it was true. Feathertail was having an affair. _Your secret is safe with me,_ he thought as he gazed at her. _It's the least I can do after making you promise yourself to me for three years._

"Just to discuss our marriage." She relaxed visibly at his words, but the same, uncertain glint shone in her eyes. "I'll relay the news to you once I get back. After all, you have a social gathering to go today, right?"

"Oh! Well, I've decided not to go. A letter came in a few days ago…some of my old friends are visiting Poltin and they brought some gifts for our wedding," she said hastily.

"Poltin?" Poltin was a city that sat on the border of the Empire. It was a fairly popular trading hub and was frequented often by foreigners. Crowfeather frowned thoughtfully. If Feathertail had foreign friends, why would she keep the mention of them away from her? In addition to this, why would she choose to inform him _today_ that she wasn't going to attend the social gathering she had spent all week preparing for?

"Are they staying long? I'd love to meet them." He was lying through his teeth now, but he couldn't push down the rising feelings of suspicion at the mention of Feathertail's trip. There was something else involved, wasn't there? Was she keeping something more than a lover from him? "My matters with your father won't take very long; I'd be back by tomorrow. Why don't we go together? I'm sure your friends would be interested in meeting your fiancé." The words came out dry and dull, but they seemed to agitate Feathertail regardless.

"No, they're not going to be staying for very long," she protested, "I can't ask them to wait—they've been asking for me for quite a while now."

"Quite a while? And you've never told me about these requests?"

"You've been busy lately and I…" she shook her head. "It must've slipped my mind."

Feathertail was definitely hiding something from him, but he quickly dismissed the thought of following her to Poltin. He didn't really want to withhold his decision on the marriage from Graystripe for any longer and he didn't want to make Feathertail any more uncomfortable than she already was. After all, a small part of him still loved her. "Then we'll talk when you get back. When will you be back?"

"In a few days or so," she told him, chewing on her lower lip. Crowfeather was struck by the sudden desire to kiss her, but quickly restrained himself when he saw her shift nervously. He offered her a small smile before taking a step back.

"Alright…I'll see you in a week, then." He nodded to her. "Have fun…in Poltin." He heard her door shut rather quickly when he turned away from her and the nagging feeling inside him grew until he couldn't help but throw a glance over his shoulder. What exactly was Feathertail planning? Was she meeting with someone she didn't want him to know of? Was it with Stormfur, who had somehow disappeared without a trace a few months ago? Why would she try to hide her brother from him?

With a sigh, Crowfeather waved to one of his coachmen and waited as his servants prepared his carriage. He was uncomfortable with meeting Graystripe at the Zephyra manor, but seeing as how the gray-haired aristocrat lived there, there was no other way to find him. After his dream, Crowfeather had no idea how he was going to face Leafpool. How had she been these past few months, when he had only caught glimpses of her during social gatherings? Regardless, one thought rang clearly in his head as he steeled himself for the ride over. _Avoidance is not key._

Third Person – Leafpool

It had been a pleasant surprise when Featherpelt arrived out of nowhere, glowing radiantly. She hadn't expected him to visit so suddenly—after all, they usually arranged their meetings based on how busy their schedules were. Ever since Featherpelt was informed that he would be Whiteear's successor, he had been attached to the shopkeeper's hip, diligently learning everything there was to being a jeweler. Although Leafpool had missed him, Littlecloud and Cinderpelt had both been chipping away at her free time, dragging her to and from various cities for scientific lectures, volunteer work, and meetings with the medicinal community. In fact, the two friends had been so busy that they barely were able to celebrate each other's birthdays. It was only recently that Leafpool had passed her seventeenth birthday, and even then, the two of them couldn't find the time to celebrate together.

What was even more shocking was when Featherpelt announced that he had been married for eighteen months already and that next time Leafpool visited the Red Sapphire, she would be meeting the latest addition to his family. A part of her twisted with guilt for being unable to attend either Featherpelt's wedding or the birth of Patchwing, but the blond man quickly reassured her that there would be more memories to come.

"And you, how have you been doing?" He squeezed her hand firmly as they stepped into the manor house.

"I've been doing fine," Leafpool murmured. He was most likely referring to her emotional state of mind and her love life, but she quickly danced around the subject. "Did you know that Astertail and Cinderpelt have been drinking tea together? I think they're courting—unofficially, that is." The gray-haired aristocrat continued to deny any questions regarding a romantic relationship, but Astertail's shy flush each time someone asked drove the servants into a mischievous flurry. "Cinderpelt's set on denying everything, but everyone's convinced she'll give in sooner or later."

"About time," Featherpelt snorted, knocking his shoulder against Leafpool's. "Anyway, you've become quite a legend amongst the peasantry. I've been hearing stories left and right about your generosity."

"It's all Littlecloud," Leafpool laughed. "He's the one who taught me how to work on the streets. Besides, I like charity work. Not everyone can afford to have a doctor, after all." The two of them continued their walk in silence, basking in each other's presence as they stepped into the manor house. Just as she was about to offer him a late lunch in the dining room, the sound of shouting filled the air. The two of them exchanged concerned looks and quickly ascended the staircase. Squirrelflight, who exited the library just as they reached the second floor, shot a curious look down the hallway at Graystripe's door.

The aristocrat's door slammed open and Crowfeather headed out, a furious Graystripe close behind. "How can you do this to her?" The older man yelled after the retreating Ebenwing aristocrat. "Do you know how much this is going to hurt her?"

"I'm doing this to keep her from getting hurt in the future!"

"And you had to wait three years to tell me this?"

"Would you rather I had rushed into the marriage with Feathertail? Then we'd both be stuck in a relationship that neither of us wants! I'm giving her another chance to marry the person she truly loves!"

"That person is you!" Leafpool looked uncertainly at Featherpelt and Squirrelflight, only to find her confusion being reflected in their eyes. Crowfeather, who had raised his voice and whirled around to face Graystripe, deflated visibly.

"That person is _not_ me." Graystripe, who had also been on the edge of his temper, faltered at Crowfeather's words. "Feathertail and I…it's not the same as it used to be. We can't be who _I_ wanted us to be. She's been hiding things from me and just earlier she rushed out to meet someone and she refused to let me go with her." The younger man hesitated. "I still love her, Graystripe. But I'm not sure if it's the love either of us wants. I can't force her into a relationship like that." His blue eyes were strained as he dropped his head. "I hope you understand."

"I'm going to have a talk with Feathertail when she gets back," Graystripe murmured after a few minutes of silence. "If what you're saying is true and the love you share isn't truly what either of you want…then I will dissolve your engagement."

"Thank you." Crowfeather's eyes lit up in a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and wariness when he caught sight of Leafpool and the others. His gaze swept over Featherpelt and Squirrelflight rather quickly before lingering on Leafpool for a few moments.

"Crowfeather, what exactly is going on?" Squirrelflight stepped forward hesitantly as Graystripe slunk back into his bedroom. The Ebenwing aristocrat stared at her for a few moments before responding.

"I'm breaking off my engagement with Feathertail. It turns out that neither of us really knew what we were getting into with."

"So you're just going break it off like that? How can you do that? Don't you know that she loves you?" Squirrelflight pressed, a look of disbelief crossing her face. The redhead flinched and took a step back when Crowfeather turned on her, his icy eyes blazing.

"I'll tell you this, Squirrelflight; Feathertail may have loved me but I was nothing more than a friend to her! At most, a younger sibling!" His gaze darkened and he looked away. "I was never a man in her eyes. And besides, I'm not breaking her heart," he mumbled. "I'm fixing mine."

Leafpool felt a wave of shock crash over her when he raised his eyes to meet hers. They were somber and wistful, laced with wariness and longing. She felt a shiver run up her spine as he took a step toward her. He bowed his head and brushed past her, his touch leaving trails of fire on her skin. She turned to see him head down the spiral staircase as her voice refused to cooperate with her.

But what could she say? _Can I love you?_ The voice in her heart offered. _Can I care?_ She gazed after him until he disappeared from sight, and it was only then that she felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of her head. She turned to see Squirrelflight staring at her with wide eyes. _She knew._ Suddenly exhausted, Leafpool dropped her head and released a long sigh. It was a secret she had hidden for too long. After a few seconds, she raised her gaze to her sister and offered her a half-hearted smile. "I suppose you want an explanation."

Third Person – Squirrelflight

It had been a shock to discover that her sister was in love with Crowfeather. She should've known—after all, the two of them seemed to hover in the general proximity of the other during social gatherings. That and the calm ease the two addressed each other with. She had brushed off their relationship as that of friendship, but there had been signs hovering over her head and she had been too blind to see it. Somewhere between now and when their parents had their fallout, Leafpool had fallen head over heels for Crowfeather.

She had been startled to learn that Featherpelt was one of the few souls who knew of Leafpool's feelings, but what had hurt the most was that the brunette hadn't trusted her enough to say something about it. "I didn't want to worry you," was the excuse that Leafpool had given her yesterday. "I knew you were happy for Feathertail and Crowfeather…and I didn't want to complicate anything."

Squirrelflight was terrified of the increasing rift between herself and her sister. Leafpool had always been her rock, the one person she could depend on. She had the ability to take in all of Squirrelflight's flaws and accept them wholeheartedly without a single complaint. But after yesterday's revelation, the redhead realized that she didn't know her sister as well as she had initially thought. She misunderstood just how selfless the brunette could be and just how dark her fears were. Leafpool knew more about Squirrelflight than Squirrelflight knew Leafpool, and that imbalance created a crutch for the brunette, one that rendered her unable to fully confide in anyone.

Squirrelflight was disgusted with herself. Who was she to think that she knew everything about her sister when she hadn't noticed the love Leafpool carried for Crowfeather for three odd years? _I never knew_ , she thought bitterly, _all this time, she must've been suffering. I've been piling my problems on her without even seeing if she needed me in any way._ She dropped her head onto her knees. _I'm a horrible sister._

"Hey." Squirrelflight's head flew up in surprise at the sound of a familiar voice. Brambleclaw stood before her, a small, crooked smile on his face. An offering of friendship. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. Oh how she had missed him.

"Hey," she replied softly. "Wanna sit?" She patted the log invitingly and felt the world sink into an awkward silence as the two of them sat together. She studied the grass by her feet until she felt him prod her with his elbow. Shooting him a confused look, she blinked when he pushed his plateful of food into her hands.

"Eat," he told her. His amber eyes darkened with concern. "You have the best cooks in the Empire and you're not eating anything?" Squirrelflight was about to snip at him for giving her a plate with his choice of food before realizing that every food item was something she liked. Her heart warmed at the image of him hovering in the kitchen, picking out every little tidbit he thought she would enjoy. Gently taking the offered fork from his hand, she deposited a bite of chicken into her mouth. A small smile crossed her face at the smoky sweetness of the meat and she let out a long sigh, feeling the burden on her shoulders ease slightly.

She felt the nervous air around Brambleclaw relax as she continued to eat, savoring each bite with the knowledge that each one was picked for her enjoyment. When she was finished, she gave him a warm smile. "Thanks," she whispered. "I really needed a friend." He returned the tender look before an uncertain light filled his eyes.

"Would you need anything more than a friend?"

Squirrelflight felt time slow to as she stared at Brambleclaw, taking in all that he was. She studied the curve of his jaw, the delicate line of his mouth, and the tempting softness of his hair. She traced the slope of his nose, the arch of his brow, and the swirl of amber in his eyes. He was frustration mixed with satisfaction, everything yet nothing, and the most stubborn man she had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

While time seemed to stop for her, it most definitely did not for Brambleclaw. "I'm sorry." He turned away, flustered, and Squirrelflight managed to knock herself back into reality just in time to catch his hand in hers. He flinched at the contact, but she tightened her fingers around him, gently tugging him back to her. When he finally turned to look at her, she gave him a small smile.

"Don't be." She squeezed his hand gently. "I—"

"Squirrelflight! I wanted to—" Ashfur broke off, staring at their interlocked hands. H gave Brambleclaw a disbelieving look before turning the same gaze to Squirrelflight. She regarded him coolly, unable to feel anything more than a muted twinge of guilt when he tore away from the scene with a choked gasp.

"You should go after him," Brambleclaw croaked, trying to pry himself away.

"Why should I?"

"Because…" The brunet hesitated. "Because he loves you," he blurted out.

"I know." Squirrelflight tightened her fingers around his hand, fearful that he would reject her. "But I don't love him." Gazing up at him, she gave him a weak smile. " _It's always been you._ "

Under Brambleclaw's stare, Squirrelflight found herself losing hope. She withdrew her hand slowly, only to freeze when his tightened around hers. She let out a small squeak of surprise when she was suddenly pulled to her feet and wrapped in his arms. The plate she had been holding clattered as it hit the ground, but the sound of Brambleclaw's heartbeat was all Squirrelflight could hear. "Is it too late?" she asked softly. _Is it too late to ask for your heart?_

"Just in time," he replied hoarsely, resting his head where her shoulder met her neck. "May I court you, Squirrelflight?"

"You might as well marry me," she snorted, smiling to herself when she saw his ears turn red. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she leaned back to nuzzle their noses together.

"So it's a yes?" His amber eyes were pleading.

"Well, seeing as to how I just proposed," She mused, leaning closer to him, "I'm pretty sure it's a yes."

Third Person – Leafpool

She nearly fell into Tawnypelt when someone pushed past her rather roughly. A hoarse "sorry" was tossed over the culprit's shoulder as he disappeared into the direction of the manor houses. Leafpool stared after the person before looking back at Tawnypelt, whose shocked expression mirrored hers.

"Was that Ashfur?"

"Sure looked like it," the Herobexy aristocrat muttered. "What is he doing—tearing off like there's a rabid dog chasing after him?" She shook her head at him before glancing in the direction he had come from. "Oh."

"Oh?" Leafpool followed Tawnypelt's gaze in confusion. Her amber eyes widened at the sight of Brambleclaw embracing Squirrelflight. " _Oh._ "

"Finally," the Herobexy aristocrat huffed. "I was wondering when the two of them would come to their senses." She winked at Leafpool playfully. "But knowing my brother, he's probably going to do the traditional approach of asking _everyone_ in your family for permission to court her."

" _Including_ Graystripe?" At Tawnypelt's affirmative nod, Leafpool threw her head back with a laugh. "Should I pretend to refuse?"

"That would be funny, but they'll take it the wrong way if you do that."

"I suppose so."

"Oh look, here comes my brother. Try not to break his spirits, okay?" Tawnypelt teased.

"We'll see." Leafpool tittered back.

"Leafpool!" _The moment of truth_ , the brunette thought bemusedly to herself as Brambleclaw neared. Following closely behind was Squirrelflight, who eyed her suspiciously. _Ah, of course she suspects me._ "Can I have your permission to court your sister?"

"I don't know; can you?" Leafpool gave into the temptation of teasing him, ignoring the amused snort from Tawnypelt and the exaggerated eye-roll from her sister. Brambleclaw looked startled at first, but relaxed when he saw the playfulness of her grin. He let out a huff before shaking his head fondly at her. "Welcome to the family, Brambleclaw."

"'Welcome to the family'?" Tawnypelt repeated. "Shouldn't I be saying 'welcome to the family, Squirrelflight'?"

"What, you thought I was marrying in?" Squirrelflight smirked at the brunette. "Brambleclaw here is going to be my bride."

"Squirrelflight!" Leafpool couldn't help but laugh at the horrified flush that appeared across Brambleclaw's cheeks and Tawnypelt quickly joined in on the chuckles. As Leafpool gazed at her sister, a warm smile fitted itself onto her face. Finally, it seemed everything was beginning to fall in place for the volatile redhead.

Third Person – Cinderpelt

At age thirty-one, Cinderpelt had grown sick and tired of people advising her to settle down. At the Zephyra manor, she had an overprotective Firestar hovering over her, constantly worrying about her bachelorette status. If to make it worse, the other aristocrats also jumped into the fray, constantly interfering in her everyday life to push her towards the prospect of marriage. When she left the manor house to attend meetings with the mediator group or with the medicinal community, she would be pestered by the older members on the matter. Even the shopkeepers in Lilystone were starting to bring up prospective romantic partners whenever she dropped by to stock up on her wares. Whenever she visited her brother at the house of Larixmin, he and his wife would frequently discuss bachelor aristocrats in her presence, even planning meetings so she could meet whomever they were discussing.

It seemed like the only place she could escape to these days was Astertail's cabin. He frequently welcomed her with open arms, even requesting her visits whenever she made a trip to Lilystone. Before long, she had taken to sitting beside him while he drove the carriage, making the whole point of the coach useless aside from carrying groceries to and from the manor house. Their meetings usually drew a lot of attention from the staff and the Zephyra aristocrats, but Cinderpelt couldn't find herself to despise the interest her relationship with Astertail drew. After all, it was teasing rumors that made the brunet coachman blush his trademark shade of red.

"Cinderpelt, would you like something to drink?" She snapped out of her reverie, quickly reminding herself where she was as Astertail crossed the living room to reach the kitchen.

"Yes please." She quietly seated herself in her usual seat at his table, letting out a long sigh as the familiar scents overtook her. She looked around his cottage, reacquainting herself with the sight. It was a cozy home with a small living room, tiny kitchen, and a narrow hallway. The hallway most likely led to Astertail's bedroom and bathroom (which Cinderpelt guessed were as small and cramped as the rest of the cabin). The walls were made of sturdy wood, the furniture worn but comfy, and the overall decoration meager but homey. While Cinderpelt's room and access to the manor house far outweighed Astertail's in terms of luxury and space, she couldn't help but feel that his home was much more personable than what she had available to her.

The mapping of the Zephyra grounds was simple in terms of the buildings. Manor servants such as maids and butlers were housed on the third floor of the manor in small rooms. The larger quarters on the third floor were given to few tutors that educated Squirrelflight and Leafpool and the stablemen (including coachmen and grooms) were given complexes a ways off from the manor house. According to Sandstorm, only the most privileged or married servants were allowed to have a cabin like Astertail's.

He was a favorite, after all. He had a magical way with the horses, often taming the beasts whenever they got too out of hand. It was rare for them to lash out at him although it was well-known how high-strung spirited horses could be. He was the most frequently requested coachman whenever there was a need for a carriage and he was one of the most-liked stablemen in Zephyra's service.

Astertail set a steaming cup of tea before her and she snapped out of her reverie to give him a small smile. He returned the gestured shyly, his movements calm as he slid into the seat across from her. She could remember their first few meetings, when he fretted and became flustered over the smallest of things. It was comforting to know that he had become more at ease in her presence than before.

The corners of her lips quirked up when she took a small sip of her tea. It hadn't taken her a long time to realize that Astertail was quite knowledgeable when it came to tea and other caffeinated beverages. He had admitted that he was raised on tea and had grown so fond of it that he eventually began studying the various qualities and flavors of the different leaves. It seemed that he had done his research well, seeing that his stores were often made of the richest and most flavorful teas. _He most likely spends the majority of his paycheck on these tea leaves_ , Cinderpelt mused, taking another sip. _I ought to purchase some as a gift for him…he has been providing me with tea for the past few months._ There was no doubt that his savings were dwindling with the pressure of having to provide enough tea for two people to drink.

Cinderpelt thumbed the rim of her teacup thoughtfully, slowly losing herself in the heady, amber liquid. Astertail's good mannerisms and overall likeability often made him the target of romance-seeking maids. After all, it had only been a few days ago when she had been somewhat confronted by a flustered maid on the status of her relationship with the groomsman. It had startled her to think that there were women pursuing him so diligently, yet at the same time, she should've expected how popular he was amongst the servants. It had made her heart twist uncomfortably in her chest; she knew of Astertail's interest in her, but she had yet to decide whether she wanted to fall in love with him or not.

He always seemed to understand what mood she was in, regardless of whether she spoke or not. It was in moments like these that she could sift through her thoughts and memories with the comfort of someone's presence without being expected to hold a conversation. The two of them finished their tea in silence and after a few moments of staring at the wood grain of Astertail's table, Cinderpelt decided that she had outstayed her visit. It was then that the brunet leapt to his feet, hastily brushing past her to show her to the door. It was something that he insisted on and it was an act of chivalry that she rarely saw between the servants of Zephyra manor.

She frowned when she saw him favoring a certain leg when he reached the door. When he turned around to face her, she confronted him. "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" He blinked at her before glancing embarrassedly at his leg. "Ah—yes; one of the horses threw a tantrum earlier and lashed out at me…I got out of the way in time, but I slipped on some loose hay and ended up doing something to my ankle." He wiggled it experimentally. "I'm sure it should be better in a day or two."

"Well if you keep putting weight on it without having consulted a doctor first, it won't," Cinderpelt argued. She put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern glare. "Sit _down_ , Astertail. You have a doctor standing right in front of you and you couldn't think of asking her to check up on you?" He opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly ushered him to the couch and forced him to sit down. Kneeling before him, she carefully took his left leg into his hands, studying the ankle joint thoughtfully. After a few careful nudges and winces later, she determined that it was sprained at the most and would heal in a few days if cared for properly.

After locating the roll of bandages that was tucked into his bathroom, Cinderpelt took to wrapping his ankle, periodically checking to see if it would secure the joint yet allow some movement. "You've sprained your ankle, but if you keep strenuous activities to a minimum, you should be able to heal within a few days," she informed him as she tied the bandages securely. "It's a good thing that I got to you before you did anything to worsen your condition." Satisfied, she rose to her feet, carefully setting the bandages on his kitchen table. "I'll be back in a few days to check up on it," she informed him, heading for the door. "I'll tell Firestar that you'll be resting for the rest of the week. Take this time to recover, alright?"

"That won't be necessary; I'm still able to work," Astertail protested, struggling to his feet. "I'll be fine." Stifling a sigh, Cinderpelt rolled her eyes and turned to give him an exasperated look.

"Astertail, look at yourself! You can hardly walk without limping—" The brunet let out a yelp as he tumbled forward and Cinderpelt threw out her arms to catch him. She tut-tutted at him disapprovingly and shifted so he was more or less on his feet again. "See? This is exactly what I—"

Only a few inches separated their faces as they stared at each other. Astertail's eyes grew hazy for a second and before Cinderpelt knew it, timid lips pressed against hers. She stood in shock, mind struggling to process her disbelief and the sheer ecstasy of his plush mouth. He drew back after a few seconds before the dazed look was quickly replaced with horror. "I-I'm so sorry!" He stammered, reeling back. "I didn't mean—" His brown eyes widened in shock as he overbalanced and pitched backwards, feet sliding out from underneath him. Cinderpelt threw herself forward to catch him and only ended up landing on top of him as he collapsed into an undignified heap on the sofa.

When the two of them gathered their bearings, Cinderpelt felt her own cheeks heat up when she saw Astertail's face turn red at their close proximity. She had practically fallen on top of him, unintentionally pressing every inch of their body together in her haste to catch him again. Before she could tear herself away, his brown eyes flickered hastily between their bodies with a mist of longing before returning to her face. Heat pooled in her stomach and she closed the gap, swallowing his gasp as she reunited their lips in fluttering dance.

Cinderpelt had been kissed in a variety of ways in her life. When she was younger, Littlecloud had kissed her shyly on the cheek after she bandaged his scraped knee. Whiteear often pecked her on the forehead and Brackenfur would occasionally press a kiss to her temple whenever they shared a fond sibling moment. Featherpelt, Squirrelflight, and Leafpool often kissed her on the cheek as a thank-you and Firestar sometimes brushed his lips against her forehead fondly, most likely reliving the years he had mentored her in fighting. Her mother kissed and coddled her frequently in her childhood and the few men she had attempted to court had kissed her on the lips. Of course, a chaste kiss was the furthest most of them ever got before they became displeased with her inflexible working schedule and lack of interest in their relationship.

Cinderpelt was not a stranger to kisses, but there was something so genuine and _new_ in Astertail's. They drew her breath away, twisting it coyly with his as adrenaline coursed through her veins and tickled at her stomach. She felt him stiffen at her kiss but felt her uncertainty fade away when he returned it tentatively.

It had only felt like a few seconds when they separated, gazing dazedly into each other's eyes. "Cinderpelt…?" he murmured nervously when she pulled back to stare at him thoughtfully.

"Have you kissed other people before?"

"Once," he admitted, glancing to the side. "A friend of mine's sister kissed me at my twenty-fifth birthday."

"And since then?" She pressed gently. She felt a twinge of disappointment at the realization that she hadn't been his first, but quickly pushed it aside. After all, if he had only been kissed once before, she would be the one with the most experience in kissing.

"Well, I've loved you ever since."

Cinderpelt was floored. She had never imagined that he had seen her so lovingly for three years. After all, she had only become aware of his feelings a year ago, when Whiteear had not-so-discreetly pointed it out when he visited Zephyra manor for a dinner party. Astertail glanced shyly at her face, unsure of whether her silence was of pleasant disbelief or disapproval.

"Come with me to the manor," she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. She glanced pleadingly into his eyes. "Stay?"

"I-I don't know," he stammered, glancing down at his bandaged foot. "I might be a burden."

"But you'll be _my_ burden." She nuzzled their noses together. "Pretty please?" It was quite uncommon for her to beg like this and by the swayed expression on Astertail's face, it was obvious that he knew. He nodded dazedly, breath catching slightly before her mouth descended on his again, pressing him firmly into the couch. When they parted again, he smiled shyly at her.

"I love you, Cinderpelt."

"I think I love you too." It was a start, but Astertail looked as if she had laid the world at his feet.

Third Person – Feathertail

 _The world was on fire._ She dove to the side just as a supporting pillar toppled over, nearly pinning her to the ground. The sound of screams mingled with the smoke, turning the air into an intoxicating and volatile substance. Her head swam as she inhaled another lungful of contaminated air, blindly demanding that she move herself to a place where she could gather her thoughts. Unfortunately, buildings were collapsing left and right and Feathertail frequently found herself on the verge of being pinned with every step that she took.

 _I should have never come_. But she had to. They had planned it out so carefully—with such meticulous care. They had been planning since the first word of her engagement with Crowfeather. At first, she had thought she could tolerate being married to the Ebenwing aristocrat, but before long, the truth made itself clear. She couldn't love two men at the same time. _Starreign help me!_ She thought as she threw herself to the ground. A burning splinter grazed her arm and landed on her clothes, nearly catching the fabric on fire.

Why would Starreign help her now, after what she'd done? She was weak for being unable to stand up against Leopardpelt and Crookedstar. She was heartless for using Crowfeather as an illusion to hide her affair. She was cruel for using her brother's absence as a shield to postpone her wedding.

 _Stormfur, where are you?_ Her heart had been shattered when his disappearance was announced. He had always been her pillar of support and when he vanished, she felt her walls crumble into nothingness. She was terrified—who would be there to urge her on, silently, from the shadows? Who would support her through thick-and-thin, regardless of the consequences? Who would stand by her side when the world turned against her?

The sound of crying filled the air and she turned to see three children huddled against the remnants of a home. _What are they doing? They should be running!_ Feathertail leapt forward, circling them in her arms just as a bloodcurdling scream ripped the sky in two. Her skin prickled at the reminder that the cry had brought her. The barbarians who lit the town on fire were still roaming the streets. Had the children run out of the burning neighborhood, they would've been killed by a charging foreigner.

 _Starreign, if you can't save me, please save these children!_ She threw herself over them, praying that she would be able to shield them from the barbarians. The three children struggled against her at first before realizing that she was sheltering them from whatever dangers lurked in the burning world around them. They sobbed uncontrollably into the ragged remains of her dress, holding her close as she looked frantically around them, trying to find an escape route.

A familiar flash of gray caught her eye as she studied the blazing world around her. _Could that be?_ "Stormfur!" She yelled desperately, tightening her hold on the children. She was making herself a larger target by calling out, but if her brother was truly here… "Stormfur! Please, are you out there?" Tears pooled in her eyes as she choked on her next breath. Where was he? She couldn't do this alone. "Stormfur! Stormf—" _Crack_. Feathertail felt her eyes roll into the back of her head as she slumped forward. A heavy weight rested on her head and back, pinning her against the wall. She was faintly aware of the children squirming out from underneath her as something warm trickled down her cheek. _Don't go out there_ , she cried out. _You'll be killed._

Her head swam as ominous shadows curled around her, wreathing like a pit of snakes. Feathertail was no doctor, but she was running out of time. _Oh Starreign_ , she thought bitterly, _I couldn't tell Crowfeather that I was sorry._ There was so much regret in her life from being unable to resist Leopardpelt and Crookedstar's criticism, being so untrustworthy that her brother would disappear on her without a word, and casting Crowfeather aside as an unwanted puppet. _I'm so sorry,_ she cried helplessly. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. If only none of this had ever happened._

" _Feathertail?_ " She heard someone call her name faintly. " _Feathertail, it's me! Stormfur! Where are you_?"

" _Get back inside, Stormfur!_ " An unfamiliar female voice called out. " _You can't let them see you!_ "

" _You don't understand, Brook! My sister's out there—_ "

The world faded around her and she felt the last few shards of warmth escape from her body. Death wasn't like falling through a bottomless pit, she realized. It was like sinking into the ocean, gently being pressed toward the seafloor by gentle hands until you rested gently on the bottom. Closing her eyes, Feathertail surrendered to the tender caresses allowing herself to be taken further and further away from the life she left behind.

 _It was dark, dim, and chilling. Feathertail shivered, the shimmering aura flexing around her uneasily. The darkness around her was unforgiving, curling curious tendrils around her limbs before snaking off when her aura lashed out. She examined her new body curiously—she had woken to find herself in the body of a cat. "Well lookie here." She flinched at the bemused, wicked lull of an unfamiliar voice. Two cats stepped out of the darkness, circling around her like a pack of wolves. A third appeared a few heartbeats later, his amber eyes turning Feathertail's blood to ice._

 _"The second halfblood," the newcomer mused, curling his dark tail around his paws. "Dying in an act of honor again. But this time you weren't as careful, were you?" His amber eyes narrowed thoughtfully at her. "After all, that's the only explanation for your appearance here." He bowed his head mockingly. "How humbling," he rumbled softly, "to have the righteous, selfless Feathertail visit our Dark Forest."_

 _"She doesn't remember us," a dark brown tom pointed out. His whiskers twitched irritably at her._

 _"I'm very well aware of that, Darkstripe," the first tom replied coolly. "However, that makes it easier for us to recruit her." A wicked leer replaced the icy chill of his eyes. "Starclan had done its best to wipe you of your past memories, but…they obviously were not expecting our interference, were they?" He stepped toward her, his curved claws gleaming in the dull light. "What will it be, Feathertail?"_

 _"You'll keep your claws off of my daughter, that's what," a low growl cut through the darkness. All four cats turned to see a glowing she-cat stalk forward, blue eyes ablaze as she pinned the first tom with her glare. "Leave us be, Tigerstar. Take refuge in your dark forest and never return! You have taken enough lives as is." The amber-eyed tom scowled at the newcomer, tail-tip twitching irritably._

 _"I will do no such thing, Silverstream," he snapped. "This is not your domain. You endanger yourself by stepping out here alone."_

 _"Thank you for your concern," the she-cat replied smoothly, "but I am never alone. Starreign protects me just as Starclan had in the life before."_

 _"If they're protecting you like you say so," Tigerstar rumbled, "then why did they let you die a second time?" He stepped forward threateningly. "Of the same cause? You died giving birth to your bastard children."_

 _"The same 'bastard' child you tried recruiting just seconds ago." Silverstream's lip curled to reveal pointed teeth. "Do not speak harshly of those you wish to persuade." Her head lifted proudly in the air. "I am not regretful of giving my life for my daughter. She is no 'bastard' child." She glowered at him, her aura sparking around her. "Leave us at once!"_

 _The three cats glowered at Silverstream before slinking away into the shadows. The silver she-cat glared after them before turning her bright blue gaze onto her daughter. "Feathertail, come with me now; before more Dark Forest cats appear!"_

 _Feathertail rose to her feet immediately, racing after Silverstream as the silver-she cat led her away from the dark forest. The two of them slowed when they reached a beautiful grassland and Feathertail turned to face the cat who claimed to be her mother. "Are you really my mother?"_

 _"I am." Silversteam's whiskers twitched in amusement. "You must be confused as to why your mother would ever be a cat, but there's a clear explanation for it. Have you ever had dreams of the forest? Of running through open plains, fishing with your paws, and sleeping under the stars?"_

 _"Yes." Feathertail was a bit unnerved by how accurately and easily the she-cat pinpointed her dreams, but she quickly brushed that thought aside._

 _"That's because everyone in the Empire was a cat in their past life. It was getting too chaotic on the planet we were living on—Earth, I think—and Starclan transferred us to a world where twolegs couldn't destroy any more of our homes. Interestingly enough, the transfer turned us into the very creatures we were escaping. But we took a different name from 'twoleg' and adopted 'human'._

 _"Starclan blessed this ground and forged the Empire on it. In order to keep the close ties with themselves and the new 'humans', they required at least one of the leaders to be bound to the earth. In other words, they created the role of the Gaian King," Silverstream explained. "Starclan changed their name to Starreign and has been with us since. When a human dies in the Empire, he or she will return to his or her original cat form and live as a cat in Starreign."_

 _"Are only Emperians cats? I don't think the forest could've populated so many other nations." There were many countries larger than the Empire and Featherpelt's head spun at the thought of so many cats living in the same forest._

 _"Only a small percentage of Emperians have been cats," Silverstream purred, narrowing her eyes in amusement. "The Empire started as a small kingdom in a large land. Before long, there were foreigners migrating in and our country became what it is today." Her tail tip twitched thoughtfully. "Our memories from our past life come back when we die, but Starreign had placed sanctions in place to specifically block our past memories from influencing our lives as humans. There quite a few things we do similarly from our past lives, but there are many new practices that challenge former teachings. Take medicine cats for example—although they are still able to communicate to Starreign and have access to memories, they are able to fall in love."_

 _The silver she-cat paused for a second, studying her daughter intently. "Feathertail, would you like to regain your memories?"_

 _"Of course."_

 _Silverstream pressed her muzzle against Feathertail's forehead. Feathertail felt a stab of pain before a flood of memories coursed through her mind. She saw glimpses of a gray tom curled protectively around her and her brother, his thick pelt alienating him from the sleek-furred Riverclan cats. She remembered being taken captive by Tigerclan and watching Stonefur trade his life for theirs. She remembered rushing over the steppingstones to reach Thunderclan, where Firestar would provide sanctuary until Riverclan came back to its senses and tore itself away from Tigerclan._

 _She could feel Crowfeather's scent linger over her as she watched him press up against her in her memories, his icy blue eyes softened by the love he held for her. She remembered the rush she would feel whenever he brushed up against her or intertwined their tails._ I loved him back then, _she mused woefully._ But why not now? _The world around her turned dark as she found herself falling again, glaring into the depths of Sharptooth's fearful amber eyes as she loosened the rock that would take both their lives away. She remembered the torn look in Crowfeather's eyes as he gazed at Leafpool and how her heart had twisted painfully in her chest._

Let him go _, the voices had whispered into her ear._ Let him go. _Was that what she did in this life? Did she finally let him go?_

 _Silverstream was standing patiently beside her when she finished cycling through her memories. "Why was it all so different?" Feathertail asked._

 _"The life you were granted on Zendiria is supposed to be another chance," the she-cat replied. "You never loved Crowfeather as much as he loved you in this life. Similarly, he never loved you as much as he did in his past life." Her blue eyes softened in sympathy when Feathertail stared at her paws. "The two of you drifted apart, Feathertail, and sometimes that drift is alright. Crowfeather is being given another chance to fall in love with Leafpool, Our medicine cats have been suffering for a long time…and Starreign was aware that many of them were being driven into madness by the strictness of their rules. They changed their ways to give cats like Mothwing, Cinderpelt, and Littlecloud an opportunity to create a family without a punishment to follow."_

 _"Did you love my father as much as you loved him before?" Everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. There was a terrifying loss-of-identity crisis tearing Feathertail's mind apart as she tried to separate herself from the past. She needed something to hold on to._

 _Silverstream shook her head slowly and Feathertail's heart plummeted._

 _"I loved him far more than I loved him before. But sometimes there are things that Starreign just can't change." Silverstream gazed down at her body. "I had a weak body—one that wasn't meant to bear children. But at the same time, I wanted to have you and Stormfur so desperately…" She trailed off, curling her tail protectively over her stomach. "It was a risk worth dying for." A bittersweet look crossed Silverstream's face. "However, my father seems to have been the same rabbitbrain has he had in the past life," she sniffed distastefully. "He should've let you marry whoever you pleased."_

 _Feathertail chuckled at the fond expression on her mother's face before her thoughts dragged her back to what had happened moments before._

 _"Why did I end up in the Dark Forest? I thought I would be transported here immediately…" She could faintly recall waking up in the warm meadows of Starclan after killing Sharptooth._

 _"The Dark Forest is rising again," Silverstream murmured warily. "However, this time, we'll be able to defeat them more easily than before." Her blue eyes gleamed with determination as she straightened her back slightly. "The next Gaian king will lead us against the dark forest. Starreign is much more powerful than what Starclan could've ever been." She blinked at Feathertail, who seemed slightly awed yet overwhelmed by the rush of information. "Anyway, I think that's enough background for now. Why don't we grab something for you to eat and then we can talk for a while longer. We can even visit Leafpool in her dreams, if you'd like."_

 _"Leafpool's a doctor?"_

 _"She's technically a mediator—mediators are the few doctors that actually access their memories before death—but Starreign wants to withhold them from her. If you haven't forgotten, she's had a rather distressing life." Silverstream blinked at the gurgling noise Feathertail's stomach made and twitched her whiskers in amusement. Feathertail wrapped her tail bashfully over her paws but threw in one last concerned question._

 _"And Stormfur? Is he alright?"_

 _"Stormfur is alive and well," Silverstream reassured her. "If he is not present in our ranks, then he is undoubtedly alive. We can check up on him later." Her eyes twinkled with laughter when Feathertail's stomach grumbled again. "Now, let's get you some food before your stomach wakes up the elders," she teased._


End file.
